The Moon and The Sun (first draft)
by Bike Chanderson
Summary: Mike and Blaine meet for the first time at Asian camp, young and naive and quickly best friends. The question is: do they remember each other when their glee clubs collide several years later? Bike Chanderson fic. Canon to end of S2. Updated monthly.
1. Yay! New Friend!

When his mother told him that he would be spending the summer toughing about with his aunt, Blaine did not expect that he would be spending it at a dusty camp ground full of Asians.

"You're going to help me clean up after lunch and after campfire time. Other than that you are free to do whatever you want. Just don't bother the campers too much, they have tight schedules," his aunt Jenny said cooly as he put his luggage down on the floor. "It'll be nice to have you around champ. The first week doing all of this alone wasn't a cake walk. I think nine is the perfect age to get a kid accustomed to hard work."

Blaine nodded, trying not to show how badly he didn't want to be there. _Why can't I stay home and watch football with my dad? Does he not want me around anymore? Was it something I said? _His mind was often full of these thoughts since the beginning of summer when his dad decided that he should man up and rough it out like he did when he was younger.

"Unpack and then meet me in the mess hall so I can show you the ropes."

He nodded again and then waited for her to shut the cabin door before he turned around, sat on his bag and pouted with his head in his hands. _This is going to be the worse two weeks ever. _

After he had finished unpacking Blaine didn't go to the mess hall, instead he grabbed a book from the small collection he brought with him and began to read. He was two pages in when something distracted him from the adventures of Peter Pan. It was a faint giggling noise coming from out of his cabin.

Blaine stood up from the floor and set the book lazily aside as he walked toward the cabin window.

There were two girls, not much younger than Blaine, hiding behind a tree in front of Blaine's secluded cabin. They were watching a group playing in the shallows of the nearby lake. He watched them too, but couldn't see the appeal. He was never a fan of boys that looked so overly confident and too competitive. These boys pushed each other and raced around as if they were trying to show off.

Blaine knew he liked boys the way girls liked boys but he would never admit it to anyone. _Because it's wrong. _He sniffed and was about to turn back into the darkness of his cabin but something caught his eye and made him whip back around.

The sun was reflecting off a shiny object and glaring through his window. When the brightness subsided his eyes dashed across the scenery to find the source. It was a portable CD player in the hands of a skinny Asian boy. _Of course he is Asian, this is Asian camp._

He watched the boy with the player dragging his feet in the sand by the lake. The other boys were beckoning for him to join them but he held up his device as an excuse not to touch the water. Blaine could see that he did not regret the choice to stay away. He could see a little bounce in the boys step and could almost hear the beat of the song being listened to by the way the boy's feet tapped and kicked at the sand underneath.

Blaine laughed and placed his hands on the window seal and tapped his feet along with the boy even though he couldn't hear the music. He hummed a little and swayed back and forth his curls bouncing up and down with each movement.

His face went red when the boy turned around suddenly and looked at him, not the giggling girls, him. He was slightly relieved when the boy raised his hand in a shy wave. Blaine returned the wave, wiggling his fingers and laughing. The boy's response was quick. He grinned and waved his hand more enthusiastically. Blaine was clapping with equal enthusiasm before he could control himself, _yay! New friend! _

Excited at the idea of someone to talk to Blaine began to pull at the window so he could socialize properly. Unfortunately the window was nailed shut. He looked up and jumped back a little to see that the boy was inches away from the window his face saddened by result of Blaine's useless tugging.

Blaine shrugged and then twitched his head toward the front door questioningly. The boy began to nod happily but then his face turned back into a frown. Blaine could hear the muffled voices of the other boys. They were beckoning Blaine's new friend to join them. They were out of the water now and calling out to him.

Without really thinking Blaine placed a hand on the window and spread out his fingers, trying to tell the boy not to go. In response the latter placed his own hand in the same position on the other side of the glass, his face in a pout.

The boy mouthed: _I __**have **__to go. _

Blaine nodded in understanding. The kids at this camp had a rigorous schedule and rarely had free time. He was glad that he didn't have to participate considering his aunt was just the cleaning lady but sad at the same time, sad that he wouldn't get to spend time with any of his peers.

_Maybe I'll see him again later. _Blaine thought with a sigh as he watched the boy run towards the others.

Blaine did see him again a few days later. Lunch was just ending and Blaine found himself with tacky yellow gloves and a full to the edge garbage bag.

He dragged the bag along the floor and felt humiliation flood through him as he passed a table of his peers. _This is stupid. This isn't camping. This is child labor. I'm suing…I'm suing dad for this. _His face burned even more when that boy walked through the door, the CD player still in his hands and the music still blasting in his ears. He was boldly observing Blaine's situation with wide appraising eyes.

Blaine started to shrink back a little but the kid put his hand up and smiled, gesturing for Blaine to stop. The boy shrugged and then walked forward, he placed a hand over Blaine's to help him pull the bag out of the hall. Blaine didn't think his face could get any hotter but the boy succeeded in proving that theory wrong.

"What's your name?" Blaine asked after they pushed the garbage into the dumpster.

The response was a curious eyebrow raise.

"Oh you don't speak English?" Blaine flushed and looked away from those wide, staring eyes. "Wait, yes you do. You mouthed-"

The boy pulled his headphones off and smiled questioningly.

"What's your name?"

It was time for his friend to be the one to blush and look away shyly. Blaine began to pull off his gloves as he waited for his answer.

A loud shout made them both jump. It was in a different language that Blaine, unfortunately, didn't understand. His friend understood it though and his reaction made Blaine frown. The small Asian ran towards the shout, clutching his CD player with one hand while using his other to wave farewell.

"Are you ever going to talk to me?" Blaine called out after him before throwing his pair of rubber gloves to the ground.


	2. Milkmato

He decided that the combination of spaghetti sauce and ice cream sandwiches was the worst in all existence. It was the way the red, meaty, sauce clashed with the melted cream into a little puddle at the bottom of the garbage bag that made him gag a little. _It's like vomit, milky, chunky, tomato vomit._ Blaine thought as he peered down into the half empty bag out of its can. _Yuck! It will probably leak through and then spread a virus that makes everyone into milk and tomato monsters._

Blaine was imagining how he would defend himself against such creatures-_A water gun filled with hot fudge_-when something hard hit the back of his neck. He spun around ready to attack. He found his enemy to be a table of giggling girls. _Ew girls! Just as bad as milkmato monsters! _All but one of the girls stared at him with wide, expectant eyes. His eyes drew to the girl that didn't seem to care that one of her friends she assaulted him with a broken fork. She was too busy scribbling away in her notebook to notice. The thing that made her stick out the most was the coloring on one of her sleeves. It looked as if she had taken a black marker to it, swirls and curves overcame the normalcy of the white camp T-shirt. _She is their leader or their traitor. I must keep an eye on her! _

"You're cute," one of the girls said loudly. Blaine's eyes widened and he nearly dropped the garbage bag as he took a step back. -_Abort mission, Anderson! Abort mission! The enemy has used their secret weapon and now they will try to kiss you. Yuck!-_

Luckily for him the girls were distracted by another boy -_I found their weakness!- _He was a gangly, tall, wimpy looking kid with his pants hitched up over his camp shirt as high as they could go. His eyes were scrutinizing and narrow and glaring at the girl scribbling in her notebook as he stormed toward them.

"Tina, it's your boyfriend," one of the girls whispered loudly nudging the girl with the colorful sleeve. Tina jerked her head up, saw the boy, and looked back down.

"He isn't my boyfriend," she muttered and continued to scribble.

"Tina!" His voice was cracking with anger as he stormed up next to Tina's chair. She looked up at him, her face red and her eyes glaring apprehensively.

"What do you want, Wes?"

"Your shirt! That's breaking the rules!" He placed his hands on his hips and tapped his toe slightly while he waited for her answer.

Tina stood up, glared and then started to walk away.

"Go and clean it up Tina!" He shouted when she shoved him out of her way.

"No," Tina stuck out her tongue. "I'm not going to let a boy tell me what to do!" With those words she stormed out of the lunch room leaving Wes with an exasperated look on his face.

"She totally likes you," the girls burst into a fit of giggles. The sound made Blaine cringe.

"Really?" Wes' harden face changed immediately into a hopeful smile.

Their giggles turned into raging laughter and Wes then realized that he was the butt of a joke. His face went red with anger and he turned to an expectant Blaine.

"What are you looking at curly?" He snapped.

Blaine, afraid of any kind of confrontation, shook his head vigorously.

"Mind your own busi-" Wes' face went from enraged to stoic as he looked at something behind Blaine. "Never mind."

The girls were staring down at their plates, their faces contorted as they held in giggles. Blaine jumped when someone moved around him. The CD player gave away who it was and he felt an excited lurch in his stomach when he looked up at the owner. The boy stopped and smiled reassuringly at Blaine before walking away. _What did he do to scare Wes away? I should thank him._

Blaine moved to follow him but was stopped by the words of one of the girls.

"He is so hot!"

"So mysterious."

"Such a bad boy."

Blaine frowned and looked away from them. He didn't think the boy meant to give off an air of mystery or rebellion. To him the boy was just shy, quiet, and kind. _Really shy._

"What's his name?" He waited patiently for the girls to quick giggling to get his answer.

"Nobody knows," a girl said in a mystic tone.

"He never talks."

"What do the teachers call him?"

"They don't call him anything. They are scared of him."

Remembering the way the boy blushed when Blaine asked what his name one Blaine doubted the girl's theory that the teachers were afraid of the kid. _He is afraid of attention. _He thought to himself as he began to walk away with his garbage bag of milkmato soup. _Adults don't notice him because he doesn't want to be noticed. I guess it just doesn't work the campers. Maybe he is this mythical child that only other children can see. Like a fairy that you can only see if you believe._

"I hope the garbage boy comes to the fair tonight." He heard one of them say when they thought he was out of ear shot. He gagged a bit and pulled the garbage bag out of the hall.

On his way back to his cabin Blaine found a colorful pamphlet tossing around on the ground as the wind picked it up with each light breeze. He chased after it, enjoying the freedom of exercise and silliness. After grabbing the paper out of the air he let it go just to chase after it again.

Finally when he was tired of playing around he picked it up and flipped through its colorful pages.

"It's a fair tonight." Someone said next to him. Blaine nearly screamed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He turned to see Tina smiling at him. She looked different when she smiled. Blaine took a step toward her, warmed by her sudden playful presence.

"That's okay. I think I'll be okay," he grinned.

"You're cool. Unlike most of these campers," she sent a glare toward the busy mess hall. "I want to give you something."

Blaine blinked, surprised by Tina's friendliness.

"Okay, what?" He watched as she pulled a handful of markers out of her back pocket. She selected the blue, purple, and black markers and then looked up at him expectantly.

"Can I mark you?"

"Can you what?"

"I wanna give you a moon."

"Moon?"

"Moon. I want to draw one on you."

"On me?"

Tina nodded and uncapped the blue marker.

"If you are okay with that."

"My aunt…" Blaine looked to his cabin and then back to a hopeful Tina. "Ah well, better to beg forgiveness than to ask for permission." He said smartly, quoting a movie he watched with his dad a few weeks before.

Blaine sat down in the dirt and tired not to laugh as Tina pushed his curls out of the way to color on his forehead with her markers. While she colored she talked to him. She told him that most of the girls at camp had a crush on him because of his hair. _I'll never let my curls be free again. _She told him that the boy was one of her silent friends that she sat by during classes ("When I actually go to them. Most of the time I go and explore instead.") but she didn't know his name. She called him "Wallflower boy" which pleased Blaine because she understood the boy's shyness for what it was. It wasn't some persona of mystery, just quiet content and peace.

He closed his eyes as her markers got nearer to them. Blaine smiled as the afternoon sun warmed his dark hair. He hated when it was too hot during the summer. His head felt all sweaty and burned because the mop of dark curls on top soaked the sun's rays up like a sponge. The sunlight on that day was different, almost comforting. He felt his thoughts drifting off to far away thoughts and fairy tales. _I am Peter Pan and I am getting ready to go and play with the lost boys. Tina is painting my face so I can hide in bushes and none of them can spot me. _

"All done!" Tina pulled away and put the cap on the black marker. "You are marked!"

Blaine opened his eyes and blinked quickly, the suns light overwhelmed him and brought him back to the reality that he was sitting in the dirt at Asian camp.

"What does that even mean?"

"If you are marked that means that Tina thinks you are awesome!" She gave him a thumb up and shoved the marker back in her pocket. "The goody-goody Wes will never get my mark."

Blaine chuckled as he stood himself up.

"I think he is mean to you because he likes you."

Tina's mouth fell open for a second but she quickly closed it.

"Gross!" She pouted and folded her arms.

He stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say about her situation until she finally broke the silence by shuffling her feet in the dirt and saying:

"What makes you think he likes me?"

Blaine beamed and then proceeded to tell her what happened after she made her dramatic exit.

()

"They called me garbage boy!" Blaine whined to his aunt after she had moderately scolded him for allowing someone to draw on his forehead ("well it's a very nice drawing I'll give you that."). The sounds of a rattling tea kettle we distant in Blaine's head, he could think only of the wallflower boy and those girls that thought he was "hot."

It frustrated him knowing that it was okay for them to think something like that about a boy when he was in the wrong when he considered the same thing. _Why do I have to be so different? Why do I have to be so abnormal?_ He groaned and turned over onto his bed.

"I'm sorry champ. Maybe we can switch around shifts so you don't have to see them anymore?"

"No!" Blaine sat up straight. His loud protest caused his aunt to nearly drop the kettle in her hands. "I mean, other than those girls, I like that shift."_Because wallflower eats during that lunch._

"Oh? Is there a girl you like there?"

"No! Yuck!" He expressed his distaste through the action of lying back down on his bed and crossing his arms.

"You are at that age when girls start to become attractive but you are afraid to admit it."

Blaine gagged overdramatically and then glared up at the ceiling.

"This boy will someday be a man who gags at his wife," his aunt said jovially as she placed the tea kettle over the embers in the cabin fireplace.

"I'm _not_ going to marry a girl."

"Would you rather be with a boy then?"

The words were teasing but they struck Blaine. He grumbled and pulled as blanket over his head. He did this partly because he didn't want his aunt to see his ashamed frown and partly because the soft blanket against his body made him feel welcome in a time of distress.

"Champ?"

He didn't answer.

"Hey champ? I was only jok-oh…oh Blaine?" Her voice sounded worried but amused.

He mumbled an incoherent response into his pillow.

"Blaine," he felt the mattress beneath him press down from the weight of his aunt sitting at the end of it. "Do you like boys?"

He chose not to respond and moved away when a hand touched his back.

"Blaine?"

"That's wrong."

"Who told you that?"

Blaine felt tears starting to sting his eyes as he remembered the conversation he had with his dad.

_ "Blaine, what happened to your face?"_

_ "Tony hit me."_

_ "Your friend?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Why did he hit you?"_

_ "Because I gave him a flower."_

_ "Why did you give him a flower?"_

_ "Because Mark gave Vicky a flower and she kissed him on the cheek. I thought Tony would give me a kiss on the cheek too but he hit me and threw the flower to the ground….dad?"_

_ "Blaine, why did you want a kiss from Tony?"_

_ "Because I like him."_

_ "That's wrong. If you like a guy you don't want a kiss or any of that stuff that mom and dad do. That stuff is meant to happen between boys and girls not boys and boys. If you wanted to be Tony's friend you should have asked him to play ball."_

_ "But I want to hold his hand like you and mom do."_

_ "That's wrong Blaine."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because only boys and girls can hold hands."_

_ "My hand won't fit another boy's hand?"_

_ "No Blaine, they aren't meant to fit. You should only hold a girl's hand."_

_ "Okay dad."_

He told his aunt of the conversation and was sure that she would agree with his dad. In fact, he expected her to subtly start shunning him just like his dad. _Of course dad is ignoring me, I would too. I'm a freak. _He didn't want to admit to himself earlier that that was the reason why his father was so stand-offish but when the time came to talking about it he knew it was true.

Blaine remembered the look on his dad's face and it pained him, he felt the shame rise in his stomach, twisting about like a disease slowly eating him alive. He buried his face deeper into pillow and whimpered quietly.

"Champ, there is nothing wrong with liking boys."

"I _don't_like boys."

Blaine shivered and bunched his legs up to his chest when his blanket was pulled off him. A pair of hands pulled him up and embraced him. Not expecting such warmth and welcome Blaine gasped as the smell of his aunt's perfume overtook every other scent. After a few seconds Blaine threw his arms around her and clutched onto her like life support. _She doesn't hate me for being wrong._

"Hey Blaine," she whispered. He could feel her breath move the curls by his ears. "Even if you don't like boys I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with that. Love is love and it shouldn't be blocked because people are ignorant to what love requires. If you ever meet a guy that likes guys or a girl that likes girls, don't tell them that they are wrong or disgusting for following their hearts."

Blaine laughed a little and pulled away. He stuck out his tongue and shook his head to show his discomfort.

"Right, too much mushy talk eh champ?"

He nodded and wiped at his eyes while sniffing.

Eagar to change the subject Blaine stood up and fished around in his pocket for the fair pamphlet.

"Can I go?" Blaine's voice cracked as he spoke causing him to blush and look down at his untied tennis shoes.

His aunt grabbed the pamphlet from his hand and flipped through its pages.

"Of course you can."

Blaine beamed and practically jumped up and down. He took the pamphlet back felt free to look at its pages now that he was allowed to go.

_Maybe I'll see __**him **__there. Maybe he'll tell me his name._

He was pulling on his jacket and looking out the cabin window at the bright lights of the fair and a rush of anxiousness excitement shuddered through him.

()

"I'm going now," he called out. His aunt put a thumb up in approval. A wet rag was over her eyes as she was lying in bed. "Do you need me to make you anything before I go?"

Her headaches occurred like clockwork. Every night just after sunset she would have to lie down in the dark and wait out headache after headache until she was able to go to sleep.

He was worried for her more than ever now, because now he knew that she cared enough about him to tell him that he wasn't in the wrong. Whether it was lying or not it still meant the world to him that she did so.

"Go and have fun, I'll still be here when you get back and you can pamper me then."

With that Blaine was out the door and into the crisp night air. He strolled happily toward the fair and sniffed the air. The pine and dirt scent was intoxicating and pulled Blaine nearer to the wild untamed forest of trees blocking the camp from civilization more than the fair. He shook his head and chuckled slightly to himself. _Not today lost boys, today I play with the other kids. Tomorrow we will hide and seek._

Blaine entered the fairgrounds with a light heart and an easy smile. The smile faded when he saw the very group of people he didn't want see.

"Garbage boy!"

He took the nearest turn to hide behind a booth. The girls passed and didn't seem to notice his detour. He sighed and leaned against the side of the booth. _I hope I don't have to be hiding from them all night._ Blaine crawled out of his hiding spot and quickly walked into the crowd of kids, hoping that his curls wouldn't give him away.

For most of the night Blaine played games and avoided the more populated areas of the fair. He ached to go onto the ferris wheel. Its height was next to the moon. _If I could get on that ferris wheel I could touch the moon._ But the crowd around it made him wary. _What if those girls are there?_

A few more games later and Blaine decided that he would risk the chance. He shuffled into line and put his head down, trying not to see anyone. _If I can't see them they can't see me. _

It was their giggling that gave them away. Blaine heard their whispers and jives behind him but refused to look back. He stared at his shoes with each step until he heard the voice of the ferris wheel operator getting closer.

"Two to a seat!"

Blaine gulped and stepped back, he didn't have a friend with him. _What if one of the girls wants to ride with me? Abort! Abort!_ He continued to step back until he ran into the person behind him.

"Sorry," Blaine turned to apologize but grinned when he saw the person he ran into. "Hey."

The Wallflower boy waved with his freehand, his other hand still holding his CD player. Blaine's smile turned bigger when he saw the yellow, red, and orange marker on the boy's cheek in the symbol of the sun.

"Tina's work?"

The kid nodded in response.

The line started moving again and Blaine felt a stab of panic. He wanted to touch the moon.

"Will," Blaine looked away from his friend, his face feeling hot in the cold night air. "Will you ride with me on the Ferris wheel?"

When Blaine looked up at the boy his worries faded away. There was a genuine grin on the boy's face.

"Hey! Kid with the moon on his forehead, are you coming or not?"

Blaine looked over at the attendant and was about to respond when soft fingers wrapped around his hand and pulled him toward the large contraption. He was shocked that a boy was holding his hand and even more shocked when The Wallflower didn't let go when they reached the attendant.

_Our hands aren't meant to fit, but they do. _


	3. Moonbeam and Sunshine

The boy's fingers tapped the back of Blaine's hand along with his music as the bar was lowered onto their laps and the ride started. He could kind of hear the music but the words were overpowered by the sounds of the chattering kids below them.

Blaine raised his eyebrows and looked over at his friend. The boy was leaning back in his seat and looking up in the sky, his head was bobbing back and forth. Blaine chuckled and then looked down at the boy's legs. They were swinging through the air, his feet twisting along with each tap of his fingers.

He grinned and then looked up at the sky. The moon was glowing and the stars were brighter without street lamps from civilization keeping them dulled. He breathed in the night air happily and leaned back in his seat.

Much to Blaine's surprise the grip on his hand was tightened when they reached the very top of the ride. He looked over to see that his partner's eyes were wide and afraid. Amused by this Blaine reached his free hand to remove the headphones from his ears.

The wide brown eyes met Blaine's and then looked down at the headphones, then to their interlaced fingers.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

He jumped in surprise. Blaine was not expecting a response with words, but the thing that really shocked him was the soft and clear tone that Wallflower's voice had. That single word shook Blaine's world around like he was in a glass globe being tossed about in his friend's smooth hands. _He speaks like an imaginary friend. _

"Why?"

"I don't like-" the wheel started to move again, jerking them forward slightly and causing the boy to panic. He closed his eyes and swung his free arm around to grab the middle of Blaine's shirt. He then buried his face in the handful of shirt he managed to grab. "Heights." The boy murmured.

The ride pulled to a stop to let other people on the seat in front of them and the kid finally resurfaced and didn't look at Blaine as he scooted to the other end of the seat. Blaine smiled and daringly moved closer to him.

"It's okay friend, everyone is afraid of something. Don't be sad."

The boy looked up at him, his eyes shining with tears from embarrassment and fear. He nodded his head slowly and then loosened his grip on Blaine's hand a little. Feeling that this was a sign that the Wallflower didn't want to hold his hand he withdrew it completely.

"N-no," the boy furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed at Blaine's hand again. "I need it."

Not knowing how to respond to the action Blaine only smiled and looked away. _He doesn't hate me then. Maybe if I give him a flower he won't punch me in the face. _

"If you don't like it then why did you get on?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the loud bickering coming from the seat in front of them.

"Did you really have to bug the guy about safety?"

"Safety is impotent, Tina."

"_Important_."

"That's what I said!"

"No! You said 'impotent.' That's not even a word dummy."

Blaine raised his eyebrows and looked over at the boy next to him. The curious stare was returned with a simple, awkward smile.

"Ugh Wes! I'm never asking you to hang out with me again."

"Good, I don't want you trying to draw on me again!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Never talk to me again, Wes! You can't even say words right!"

Blaine was distracted from their argument by the boy who brought Blaine's hand up to his eyes. He looked around and realized that they were at the stopped at the top once again. Worried for his friend, he pulled his hand away and picked up the set of headphones sitting between them. The boy blindly grabbed for Blaine's hand, his other hand covering his eyes.

"No," Blaine swatted his hand away. "Music, it will help."

He licked his lips in determined focus as he maneuvered the cord around his friend's shaking fingers and over his head. After the headphones were in the rightful place and the cord was untangled from the boy's fingers he reached for Blaine's hand again.

"Both," he pulled Blaine closer. "Listen to my music with me."

Blushing, Blaine nodded and leaned his ear against the headphone nearest to him. He couldn't hear the words of the song but he could feel the loud beat pounding against his ear. The first song was loud and fast but Blaine could feel a dream state overcoming him as he snuggled closer to the soft sleeve of his friend's jacket. The boy smelled like a dream too, like a flower petals and burnt wood. _I think this is what a fairy smells like. _He couldn't help but smile, amused, each time his hand would be squeezed by the Wallflower in fear.

His imagination was always vivid and useful so he closed his eyes and imagined that he and his companion were sitting on the back of a large eagle while it flew high above the earth, defying gravity and leaving human stubbornness to remain stiff and realistic. _Up in the air, hands fit and no one cares._

They listened to a few more songs before they were roused out of their solitary moments by the shouting coming from the seats around them.

"Why haven't we stopped?" Wes shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "This is out of order! I do not like this!"

Blaine sat up and wiped his mouth. He felt like he was slowly waking up from a dream. The only thing keeping him in the dream was their interlacing fingers, and the warmness of the night.

"Wes is right, we haven't been going around for too long," Blaine watched his mouth still in awe that his words were not faltered or strained but smooth and warm and well thought out.

"What?"

"We aren't stopping," the boy sat up anxiously and looked around, his headphones now in his hands.

Blaine peered over the seat, he saw that a group of adults surrounding the front of the ride. _I think it's broken. _The grip on his hand tightened and he could feel his fingers starting to go numb. He turned to his friend and flashed a reassuring smile.

"We'll be ok-"the ride jerked to a stop and sent Blaine forward into the bar keeping them in. After recovering from the shock Blaine quickly looked at his friend. The moonlight was accenting the tears on the boy's cheek and it gave Blaine a little ache in his stomach. He leaned over and wiped at the tear, smearing the sun on his face. The yellows and reds stretched out across his cheek and ended at the corner of his eyes.

"I'm scared."

"I'm here."

The boy smiled weakly and wiped at his face, smearing the colors even more.

"You smeared the sun," Blaine pressed on the side of his face with his thumb. "It looks like Sunshine." He laughed a little.

The Wallflower quickly licked his finger and ran them over Blaine's forehead.

"Moonbeam."

They laughed for a few seconds before someone shouted from below and they were snapped back into the reality of the situation.

"Are you kids okay up there?"

Blaine didn't bother trying to respond over the cries of his peers.

"Get me down from here!" Wes shouted above the others. "My parents will hear about this!"

"Shut up, Wes," Tina shouted just as loud.

Blaine could hear the girls behind them and the adults below trying to calm them down, but all he wanted to do was look up at the moon and hold his friends hand. Blaine leaned back and pulled his feet up into the seat before nudging his partner.

"Hey, you never told me your name."

Though he couldn't see the color in the boy's face because of the bright moonlight, he was sure that there was a blush. He shook his head and looked away. Blaine chuckled at the fact that the boy was trying his best not to look down.

"Fine, I'm calling you Sunshine." Blaine meant for it to be a challenge but by the way his friend's mouth turned up in a small smile he knew he was already defeated.

"I like that."

Blaine frowned deeply. _No, this is the opposite of what I wanted. _

"Anything is better than Wallflower. That makes me sound like a girl!" Sunshine stuck his tongue out in disgust. The expression made Blaine's frown turn into an uneasy smile. "What is your name?"

"Not telling," Blaine put his nose up in the air in defiance.

"Then I'll call you Moonbeam."

Blaine rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin.

"Does this mean we are friends now?"

"I thought we already were."

Blaine smiled shyly and looked down at the abandon headphones sitting on Sunshine's lap. He picked them up with his free hand.

"Can we listen to more music? I think we are stuck up here," he asked quietly. Sunshine rejected his offer, which disappointed Blaine, he wanted to go back to leaning against him and peacefully listen to the shared music while they waited for the ride to fix.

"Can we talk instead?" The boy asked with a weak, hopeful smile. Blaine returned the smile and nodded his head, pleased with the agreement.

While the other kids whined about being sleepy and needing go to the bathroom Sunshine and Moonbeam pretended that they were climbing a dangerous cliff and the worrisome adults below were in fact alligators.

"They are cannibals! They are going to eat us."

"Silly Moonbeam, if they were cannibals they would be eating each other not us."

After that adventure lost its interest they pretended that Wes and Tina were a bickering ghost couple that they had to defeat with their invisible "ghost-bullet" guns.

"Be quiet! You are making me nervous," Wes shouted as Blaine aimed his fingers at the back of his head.

"Shut up, Wes! You aren't the boss of them."

Blaine let his sleepiness return to him as a ladder was put up next to their seat.

"This is unacceptable! I'm not climbing down that ladder. Shouldn't they bring an ambulance?"

"Shut up," Tina muttered. "I hate you."

Blaine held on to his friends hand while he went down the first few rungs in the ladder but hesitantly let go when the reach was too far. He reached the bottom and waited anxiously for Sunshine to descend. He peered up curiously to see the boy's back hair sticking out of the side of the seat, his eyes barely peeking over the edge and glistening with fresh, terrified tears.

"Come down Sunshine!" Blaine called out just as an adult put their hands on his shoulders and started pulling him away. "Come down! Save me!" He squirmed under their grip, attempting to show his friend that he was in need of help.

The reaction was more than he expected and his eyes grew round as his friend scrambled down the ladder and then threw his arms around Blaine's waist and pulled him away from the confused adult. Blaine gasped, surprised at the boys strength as he put Blaine on his shoulder and started to run away.

"You two get back here!"

Sunshine ran around the ferris wheel carrying Moonbeam until he got tired and the adults finally caught them. They were forced to wear blankets on their shoulders _("you are in shock, blankets will help."_) And they were forced sit on a bench near the large campfire.

Blaine looked around at his peers, they were all teary-eyed and shaken and clutching onto their blankets for moral support. His friend had a small smile on his face and his blanket was sliding off his shoulders. Blaine watched him unashamedly as he stretched his arms out and yawned.

"Stop staring at me!" Sunshine pouted and pushed Blaine teasingly away.

"Sorry," Blaine muttered. "Why did you talk to me?" He asked, looking down at his feet which were dangling from the bench.

"Because you talked to me."

"Other people talk to you."

"I know."

"You don't talk to them."

"I don't want to talk to them."

"And you want to talk to me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

The boy brought his feet up onto the bench and rested them on Blaine's lap as he stretched out on the bench, the blanket now tight around him.

"Hey! Not fair!"

Sunshine rolled his eyes and took his feet off Blaine's lap and onto the bench so his knees were high and hiding his face from Blaine's view. Blaine, smirking, put his feet on the bench and bent his legs so their toes were touching. He looked up at stars above them and pretended that they were alien spaceships. They only way Moonbeam and Sunshine could remain safe from these Aliens was if they stayed completely still.

After a short while Blaine began to fidget uncomfortably.

"I can't see you," he complained, nudging the boy's toe with his foot to get his attention.

"You can hear me right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm still here."

Blaine smiled happily and playfully nudged his friend again, the nudge was returned and they began a little game of nudging until the heat of the fire and the softness of the blanket pulled Blaine into a dream state. He could hear the soft breathing from his friend and felt like it gave him permission to finally doze off.

()

"He is fine, Jonathan! Yes, I know it was a mistake to let him go by himself but you know how bad my headaches get and you should have seen the boy, he wanted to go so badly."

Blaine's eyes fluttered open and his nose took in the scent of his cabin bed. He pushed up from his mattress, the springs groaning in protest. He looked around the room, now filled with the morning light. He rubbed at his eyes and saw his aunt pacing in front of his bed the wire from the cabin's phone was following her around and tangling around her feet. _I smell a trap by the enemy pirates! _Blaine thought as his vision became clear. He jumped down from his bed and picked up the end of the wire, trying to save his aunt from the enemy.

"Blaine, stop it! I'm trying to-oh thank you," his aunt laughed and jumped out of the cords. "I'm not going to make him stay in the cabin all day, that's ridiculous. Jonathan, we are getting enough trouble from the other parents. They are threatening to shut us down." Her feet wiggled through the remaining cords. They reminded Blaine of dancers as they lightly paced the wooden floor boards beneath them. He looked up at her skinny figure and pretended that she was a ballerina dancer trapped by a pirate trap.

_"Why are you making him watch this? Are you trying to turn him into a queer?"_

_ "Be quiet Jonathan, he likes it."_

_ "Let's put on some football instead. Blaine likes football."_

_ "Can the football players dress like the dancers?"_

_ "Oh Blaine don't be so sil-"_

_ "Be quiet Blaine, the game is on."_

He was roused out of his memories by two fingers snapping in front of his face.

"What did you want champ?"

"Can I go out and play?"

"You don't want to stay here and help your aunt?" She said with a teasing smile.

"What do I need to do-"

"I'm only joking. The other kids have all of today off because of the fiasco last night. Go out and take this opportunity to make some friends."

Blaine jumped in excitement and began to pull on his shoes.

"I already have a friend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! I'm going to find him, bye!" Blaine hoped toward the door, still tugging his shoe on. He hurried and opened the door before she could change her mind like his parents often did.

"No kissing, Blaine. You're too young for that." His aunt called out after him, laughing. Blaine stumbled a little

e but didn't turn around to respond to the jest.

He found his friend sitting propped up on his feet and leaning over the edge of the camp lake. As Blaine got closer he saw that white petals were falling from the boy's slim fingers and onto the lake. He was humming to himself while he watched each petal get carried away by the waters small movements.

Blaine hesitated; he didn't want to get any closer. He felt like he was walking into someone's dream and he couldn't help but imagine that there was an endless beach of sand behind and a vast ocean in front of them.

In the middle of the lake there was a large piece of driftwood slowly getting closer to the shore.

"You should run," Blaine said, staring out at the water and imagining the wood turning into a large pirate ship. He heard a faint gasp and he looked down to see the boy staring up at him with surprise in his dark eyes. "Pirates!" Blaine shouted and pointed at their looming ship.

Without question the boy threw his handful of petals as if they were weapons against the enemy, and ran. Blaine ran after him trying his hardest to catch up.

"Come on Moonbeam!" His friend shouted as they passed the mess hall which, in Blaine's mind, had turned into a crashed and abandoned battle ship.

"You move too fast!" He gasped while dodging a fallen plank (the garbage bin outside of the mess hall.) "Into the forest! They can't find us there."

They stumbled into the trees behind the camping grounds and continued to run and evade trees with incredible speed. _We are the lost boys running from the pirates._ Blaine ran into the boy and knocked both of them over onto ground.

"Why did you stop?"

"Pirates can't fly." Sunshine peered up at the giant tree in front of them.

"Do you have any more pixie dust?"

"Pixie dust?"

Before Blaine could explain his idea the boy was digging into his pockets and pulling out more white petals. Blaine grinned and rolled away from him. Sunshine shoved a handful into Moonbeam's hand and chuckled a little.

"Throw them in the air," Blaine instructed. The boy threw the petals in the air with Blaine. Laughing, he spun around as the petals fell around him and grazed against his skin. They were soft and smelled strongly, drugging him with happiness and ease.

He continued to spin until he felt dizzy, he fell onto the ground, the dirt and petals flying up around him. "Okay, that's enough." He breathed out as one more petal fell onto his face.

He felt his friend lie down next to him and breathed out a happy sigh. They stayed in the petals until the snap of a twig surprised both of them. Blaine sat up and looked around wildly.

"Pirates!" Blaine wailed and crawled toward the tree. He jumped up for the nearest branch of the big tree in front of him, his fingers barely gripped onto the bark for a few seconds before gravity pulled him back to the ground. "I can't fly high enough."

Sunshine put his hands on Blaine's waist and hoisted him up until Blaine managed to climb up onto the branch. Blaine looked around and he could see the shadows of the pirates walking toward them. He put his hand down to pull his friend up. The boy ignored the hand and placed a foot on the tree closest to the one Blaine was in. He jumped off the side of the tree and threw his arms around the branch next to Blaine. He kicked his legs around the branch and swung himself around. _Like a fairy monkey._

Blaine stared at in awe until the boy looked up at him smiling.

"Garbage boy! Wallflower!"

"Shit," Blaine muttered. This caused his friend to burst into a fit of giggles. Blaine, frustrated and desperately trying to keep a good balance like Sunshine, stuck his tongue out in defiance.

"You said a bad word!"

"Dad said that it's okay to say bad words," he clutched onto the trunk of the tree while the boy balanced happily on his two feet, bouncing slightly, "when your favorite team is losing."

Two girls ran into the clearing and Blaine recognized them from the table of girls that Tina was sitting with. Blaine clutched harder onto the tree and glared down at them.

"What are you guys doing?" One of them asked innocently.

"Go away," Blaine hissed. "No pirates allowed!"

"We aren't pirates!"

"Yeah, we're girls. Come down here, we wanna play too!"

"No!" Their eyes went wide as Sunshine spoke to them for the first time. "Sunshine and Moonbeam only, no pirates."

"We _aren't _pirates."

They continued to argue for what seemed like minutes until Blaine stood up on his branch in a brave and defiant stance.

"You two can play, go and get a ladder for us to climb down. Our pixie dust has run out!"

"Climb down you dummies!"

"No," Sunshine called out. "Too high."

"Baby!"

"Brat," Blaine shouted back, feeling protective of his friend's feelings.

The argument continued for a few seconds longer before the two girls finally gave in and ran back to the camp to get a ladder.

"Let's get outta here before they come back," Blaine swung down from the tree and landed on his feet, only to buckle on impact and fall face forward into the white petals they left there. He blushed as he stood up and brushed himself. He had failed his attempted at trying to impresses his friend and he felt certain that he would be laughed at.

Instead the boy acted like nothing happened as he swung down from his branch with a grace that Blaine was envious of. _He could be a dancer like in those shows mom watches. Wait…boys can't dance. That's wrong._ He was staring at his friend with his eyebrows knitted together in thought and the boy reacted to this by blushing and looking up at the tree, trying to show that he didn't see Blaine's curious stare.

"What do we do now?"

"Whatever we can I guess."

They continued to play in the trees behind the campgrounds, making sure not to go too far so they didn't get lost.

"Tomorrow I'll bring more pixie dust so we can use it like breadcrumbs and go deeper into the jungle."

"Where did you get the pixie dust?"

"A secret place, that I'll show you tomorrow if you want."

"Yes…please."

Even when the bell rang for lunch they acted as if it were the warrior call of the native tribes getting ready to attack them for invading their land. They dodged trees and avoided girl pirates, leaped around little streams and threw rocks into an old and abandon barrel. The only thing that could wake them up from their imagination was the moon bathing them in pale blue light. The night threw a spell over the world and the only way they could save it was if they feel asleep.

"I'll see you tomorrow Sunshine?" Blaine said awkwardly as they came to their parting point by the edge of the still moonlit lake. "If you don't have things to do?"

The boy smiled weakly, his lips smacking like he was in some kind of happy, dream-like state. Blaine thought he looked a little goofy with his eyes drooping and his black hair messed with the day's adventure.

"If I can be a ninja, I'll be able to hide from class like Tina."

"You don't have t-"

"I want to. Goodnight Moonbeam."

Blaine was glad he had the cover of the moonlight to make his cheeks look like a soft blue instead of the flaming red the daylight would have shown. He shuffled his feet in the dirt and began to walk slowly toward his cabin. He could see the shadow of his aunt leaning over the fireplace with her forehead in her hands. He frowned and picked up his stride so he could be of assistance to her.

He was nearly at the door when a hand tapped his shoulder. He twitched in fear at first but recognized the campfire and flower petal scent of his friend. Blaine turned and stared at Sunshine with confusion.

The boy was holding up a simple white flower. Blaine looked down at it and then back up to its owner, still curious.

"For Moonbeam, a magical flower that only shines when a Moonbeam touches it." Blaine was speechless as he reached for the small, wilting, white flower. He held it up to his face and stared at it in wonder.

To someone else the flower would have looked dismal; one of the petals had been ripped until the only thing left was a small piece of white sticking out a little from the stem. Another petal was bent down so it was no longer lined up with the others. The stem was bent to the point of breaking. Yes, to an average person or child this flower would have been thrown away, but to Blaine it was the most glorious thing that was ever given to him. It was a sign of acceptance and friendship. To him, the flower glowed in his touch just like his friend said it would.

"I should've given it to you sooner but…but I didn't."

"Why?"

"I have to go or-"

"Oh okay."

Blaine was surprised when Sunshine leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. It was like someone had brushed a feather against the side of his face, soft and almost non-existent, a few inches away and Blaine wouldn't have felt it at all. In fact if Blaine's eyes weren't wide open he would have been convinced that it was a dream.

As Blaine watched the boy run away at full speed he was sure that he wasn't dreaming, and for once he was okay with reality.


	4. Rapunzel and Pirates

"Do you have an explanation young man?" His aunt said, putting her hands on her hips. Blaine looked up at her with batting eyelashes and an innocent smile. The flower was lightly gripped in his fingers and he hid it behind his back so she wouldn't threaten to throw it away.

"Sorry, Aunt Jenny, we got lost."

She brought her fingers up to the bridge of her nose and rubbed as if she was in deep thought. "You got lost or you pretended to get lost? I haven't seen you all day. You are lucky some of the teen counselors like to get frisky with each other in the woods or I would have had no idea where you were."

Blaine pouted and looked down at his feet. "But we were being chased by pirates," he said defensively. "And Indians and-"

"Please be quiet, your aunt has a headache."

Blaine instantly closed his mouth and ducked his head even lower in shame. He could feel the usual tears of guilt starting to build up in his eyes.

Before he could reach a hand up to wipe away the single tear there came a pair of slender hands that were pulling him toward her into a loose embrace. Blaine, eager for her forgiveness, threw his arms around her and tightened the hug, sniffing slightly.

"I'm not upset with you," she whispered, causing the curls behind his ears to move under her breath. "I just have a huge headache that will make green, icky, goo ooze out of my ears." She said the last of it with a smile in her tone as she used her long fingers to tickle the sides of his stomach.

Blaine wiggled out of her grip and tried to suppress his laughter. "That's crazy," he said softly, not wanting to hurt her head anymore. He smiled at her before kicking off his shoes and running to his bed. He clambered on top of it, being careful not to squish his flower as he rested his head on his pillow. He held the flower up to his face and spun it around by pinching the stem between two of his fingers and rubbing them together. The cabin's light behind the white and frail petals made it glow even more but Blaine was convinced that it was purely his magical, moonbeam touch.

"What's that, champ?"

"A present from the sun."

"The sun went down an hour ago."

"No he didn't."

"No _he _didn't?"

Blaine didn't answer; instead he turned his back to her and stared at the cabin wall, blushing furiously.

"Oh come on," her fingers grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "You can tell me."

"My friend, Sunshine."

"Sunshine? That sounds like a girl's name."

Blaine scoffed and nudged her with his arm as she pulled herself up onto his bed to lie next to him. "That's not his real name."

"What's his real name?"

"I don't know," Blaine turned back around but continued to stare at the flower, examining its every flaw and discoloration, imprinting the look of it into his memory. _Like a robot scanning a life form. Beep beep. _

"Don't you want to know his name?"

Blaine thought about it as he watched the petal that was bent in spin around with the others. "I guess, maybe."

"Isn't that important?"

"Mmph," Blaine didn't think that it mattered, he liked the secrecy of it all, and it gave him room to imagine. Maybe Sunshine's name was supposed to be a mystery. _What if I learn his name and then he isn't the same boy anymore? What if he loses his magic? What if I found out and he stopped existing because of it?_

"What are you going to do with that flower?" She said after a pause.

"Put it in some water?" Blaine looked up at her, questioning if that was the right answer. Her thin face scrunched up into a cute and indecisive expression. Blaine watched her with curiosity. He remembered hearing his mother talk about her sister's surpassing and materialistic beauty but all he saw was kindness in tired eyes and laughing lines around her mouth. He saw the shadow of youthful beauty in her chapped lips and something about it saddened him. _She is still pretty, she'll always be pretty. _

"No, it won't last very long if you do that. Why don't you dry it or press it?"

"What's that?"

"Well, I believe drying it will be best because it will keep all of its dimensions. Hang it upside down with a string and when all the moisture is gone out of the flower it will be frozen in that position. Very delicate but still there. You can even put it in a vase in your room."

This idea brought a frown to his face. "My dad-"

"Oh right- then we'll press it," she shuffled off the bed. Blaine turned and watched her as she rummaged through her luggage. Before he could question her actions she pulled out a thick leather bound book. Her eyes wrinkled up in a smile as she passed it over to him.

It was heavy to hold with just one hand, his other was occupied with the flower, and he had to drop it onto the bed in front of him before it hurt him too much. He ran a finger along the leather binding, the texture reminded him of the couches in his father's study but the worn and used look of it was more welcoming to him and made the corners of his lips turn up. He turned the book over to look at the cover. There was a woman on the cover; she had long golden hair that bundled up around her bare feet. Her eyes stared at him with a knowing glint in them. Blaine blinked in shock. He felt like she could see through him, that she was reading his mind, reading his worries that his aunt was sick and that Sunshine wasn't real. He gulped and looked away from her.

"Put the flower between the pages." She instructed as she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"But that will crush it," Blaine pushed the book away, wary of the threat it was making on his flower.

"No," she pulled her legs back up and picked up the book. "It will flatten it, make it thin and light as the paper within. And…you can hide it too. You can keep it forever," she flipped to the middle of the book. Blaine's eyes flickered across the pages that were opened.

"What's rapeoonzeal?"

"Rapunzel, Blaine. It's one the stories in this book. Hand me the flower."

Blaine pouted and handed her the flower. When it left his fingers he saw the glow that he gave it fade away. Of course this was all in his imagination but a small smile came to his face, knowing that he was the only moonbeam that would make it glow.

She delicately placed it in the crease of the pages and slid a finger over each petal before she closed the book with a slow, heavy thud. Blaine winced.

"It will be fine, Blaine." She put the book down between them. "I'll even let you keep the book."

"What book is it?"

"A book of fairy tales?"

"Fairy tales?"

"Well people say they are fairy tales because they don't believe in magic."

"Can you read them to me?" Blaine looked up at her, his eyes wide and begging.

"One story and then you need to get ready for bed."

Blaine nodded happily and sat up on his mattress, snuggling close to her as she opened up the book to the page with the flower. He smiled, all of the flowers traits were still there, just flattened down like a really good drawing on a page of words.

"There once lived a man and his wife who had long wished for a child, but in vain. Now there was at the back of their house a little window which over looked a beautiful garden…" He listened intently as she told the story of Rapunzel and her long golden hair. _This is the woman on the cover, the one that can read my mind. _The story was short but mystifying to him.

"I like that story," Blaine nodded happily and jumped off his bed. "It must have sucked to be away from each other that long. Why didn't they look for each other?" He said through the fabric of the pajama shirt he was pulling over his head.

"Because he was blind and she…well she was too depressed? Maybe she thought he was dead? Killed by Mother Gothel? Maybe she felt guilty about leaving without saying goodbye?"

Blaine stuck his toothbrush in his mouth and thought it over as the minty flavor over took his taste buds. He wondered if Rapunzel ever had to worry about things like this. If she brushed her teeth or got ready for bed or read stories or had imaginary friends. _Wait, he can't be imaginary, all the other kids see him. Maybe he is a ghost. _

"Maybe she did look for him," he said after he spat out his toothpaste and put his toothbrush back in its plastic bag. "It just didn't say," he yawned loudly and stretched his arms out. He crawled into his bed the day's adventures finally taking its toll on him. He pulled the book of fairy tales under his arms and cuddled close to it.

"I bet he looked for her too, blindness and all," she turned off the light and he could hear the sound of the creaking floorboards get further away from him until they ended with the squeaking of her mattress as she climbed into her own bed.

He closed his eyes and started to drift off before something else came to his thoughts. "It must have been nice for her, knowing that her prince looked for her."

"Maybe you'll have your own prince look for you," she replied sleepily.

"Princes don't search for other boys, they look for girls," Blaine said with an irritated huff.

"Blaine," her voice was more awake now, more aware of his words. "A prince searches for the person he loves, whether boy or girl, he won't care. He will only care that he loves that person. Nothing can stop love."

Blaine made a loud, disgusted noise.

"It may gross you out now but remember when you grow up and find someone that you will love as much as the King's son loved Rapunzel, and nothing else will matter but that love for that person," during the end of her speech her voice started to droop with the same sleepiness as before..

"But dad said it's wrong if the hands don't fit."

"They fit if you want them to."

()

Blaine woke up with the sun the next morning. He snuck out of his bed and kept a wary eye on his aunt while he changed. After finishing with his shoes, a small tapping noise came to the window in front of his bed. He scrambled toward it and peered out to see Sunshine smiling up at him, his eyes wide and awake and mud smeared on his cheek.

He skipped over to the door and opened it. Sunshine stepped in and was about to speak before Blaine put a finger to his lips and shushed him. Blaine led his friend over to his side of the cabin and pulled out the book of fairy tales from under his blankets.

"My aunt pressed it for me," Blaine opened the book up to show the boy the flattened, but still pretty, flower. He hesitated before looking up at Sunshine for a sign of either anger or approval. A smile cracked his lips as his friend nodded vigorously.

"That's what my mom does," Sunshine explained in a whisper. "Then she frames them and puts them on the walls in our house." He closed the book and smiled. "She calls it her garden since we don't have a yard."

"You live in a city?"

The boy nodded again.

"Far away. Let's go," he took Blaine's hand and walked toward the door. Blaine staggered behind him, smiling at his eagerness to be outside. _It must be hard to live in the city with no gardens or yards._

"Far away?"

"I don't even live in this state."

"Why are you here then?"

"My dad used to live around here and he wanted me to have the same experiences as him," the boy shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. "He wants me to get fresh air."

Blaine opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a loud shout behind them.

"You better be back for lunch!" His aunt's voice was still tired but loud enough that he could hear the seriousness in her words. He jumped and started to run, dirt kicking up behind his feet as he ran frantically away in fear of her wrath.

"Okay," he called out when he was a good distance, throwing his hands up and not bothering to see her reaction. "Come on! Before she changes her mind." Blaine said in a loud whisper when his friend caught up to him.

They ran until they reached the woods, where Blaine fell onto his knees and took in long breaths, his sides aching from the run. He looked over at his friend and scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion; Sunshine was sitting next to him, his legs crossed and peaceful smile on his face.

"How are you not dying?" Blaine said through pants.

"Asian stampede."

"What?"

"Stampede."

"What is that?"

"I don't know but my dad says I have it."

They spent most their time that morning playing in the stream and acting like pirates digging for treasure. The treasure consisted of rocks and long blades of grass along with some empty bottles they found near a big tree. His friend would dig the rocks out of the mud and Blaine would dip them in the water to wash them off. He would then bring the rocks up to his mouth and then brush them along his bottom lip.

Each rock Sunshine picked out was smooth to the touch and vibrant in color. Each one was a different brilliant shade, but when Blaine peered into the water he only saw grey and black rocks. _He must have a magic touch, _Blaine thought to himself as his friend handed over a pink stone.

"Are you magic?" Blaine asked quietly before bring the rock to his mouth. The boy looked up and then tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"Why do you do that?"

"Because I like it."

"Kissing rocks?"

Blaine stuck his tongue out defiantly. "I'm not kissing them!" He held out the pink rock. "You try."

Sunshine smirked and grabbed the rock, he nearly put it up to his mouth before stopping and glaring at Blaine. "But you kissed this."

"Problem?"

"Nope," he said simply and placed it to his lips. "Soft." He said quietly. "Softer to my mouth than to my fingers."

"Crazy."

"Yeah."

The boy looked down and bit on his lips as a slight blush appeared on his cheeks. Blaine stared at him, knowing he that he was going to say something and was excited about the idea. Knowing the sunshine rarely spoke to anyone made each sentence a special treat for Blaine, like a ray of sun made especially to warm him. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around his legs.

"When I kissed your cheek," Blaine felt his face get hot instantly at the mention of it. "I remember how soft your cheek was." Blaine could barely make out the words being spoken; they were so quiet and timid.

"My mom makes me-" He was shocked into silence when Sunshine pressed his fingers to his cheek. He moved his fingers off and then placed his palm to Blaine's skin, and then the back of his hand.

"Yeah, softer to my lips," the boy nodded and then moved his hand away. "A bee!"

Blaine jumped and scrambled away from the stream. "Where?" He spun around to see his friend walking in the stream, his hands cupped together and his skinny knees shaking slightly as he bent down into the water.

"What are-"

"Shh."

Blaine hesitantly stepped toward the stream and looked over the boy's shoulder. The bee was buzzing inanely in his hands. Blaine opened his mouth in awe as Sunshine lifted the bee out of the water. Blaine peered closer and saw that its tiny wings were damp from the water. He followed as the boy slowly walked out of the stream. He was fascinated by the deeply concerned look on his friend's face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were transfixed on the bug in his fingers.

"Help me dry it off," the boy whispered and began to blow gently so the clear wings on the bee twitched a little from the breeze. Blaine, still slightly fearful, stepped in front of his friend. He swallowed nervously and cupped his own hands under Sunshine's. They both dried the helpless bug with their slowly and equal breathing.

After a little while the bee started to calm down, as if recognizing their help and welcoming it until finally its wings were dry enough for it to fly out of their hands. Blaine, newly afraid, jumped back and yelped.

"It's okay," Sunshine muttered and watched the bee fly away, his eyes squinting from the small amount of sun that was leaking through the tree.

"You saved it."

"_We_ saved it."

"Why did _we_ save it?"

"Because it needed saving."

That answer was good enough for Blaine, good enough to think even more highly of Sunshine. Which he didn't think was possible. After moment of Blaine just staring at his friend and his friend returning the look with a raised and curious eyebrow, the latter shrugged and walked back to the stream to dig for more stones. Blaine complied and dug for them as well.

They found a spot near the edge of the stream where they buried their collection, cursing and shouting the entire time. ("_It's okay because we're pirates_!")

It wasn't long before the bell rang out in signal for lunch time. Blaine bowed his head down sadly and began to walk back, marching like it was a walk to his death, his friend walking in stride with him.

"Hey," the boy chirped happily. "When you are done eating with your aunt you should meet me some place."

Blaine looked up at him, his head still ducked down but his eyes focused on Sunshine. "Where?"

"Where I picked your moonbeam flower."

He perked up excitedly and clapped his hands together.

"You're going to show me?"

"I already promised I would, dummy!" Blaine hummed in agreement as he watched Sunshine dig into his pockets, licking his tongue in a childlike concentration as he pulled out petals and bits of paper and finally-"It's a treasure map." He handed a white piece of folded up construction paper to Blaine.

Blaine unfolded it slowly, aware of how precious this map was. He looked at the detail of it all, astonished by how intricate it was. There was also a flower taped down to the corner of it, Blaine thought it was a decoration and smiled at Sunshine's creativity.

"When did you make this?"

"This morning?"

"You must have gotten up early."

"Mom says I'm an early bird. Up before the sun."

"Sunshine likes the sunrise," Blaine joked, nudging his friend as they walked out of the trees and next to the broken down ship of their enemy pirates (the dumpster next to the mess hall.)

He turned to Sunshine and gave a small wave. The wave was returned. They both walked backward, still facing each other and laughing at their silliness.

"You turn around first!"

"No you!"

"Okay," the boy stuck his tongue out and turned around. "Flower marks the spot, Moonbeam."

Blaine looked down on the map and saw that the flower he thought was decoration was in fact overlapping a red X on the paper. His smile grew and he looked up to comment on it, but Sunshine was already gone.

Excitement about his upcoming adventure quickly overpowered his momentary disappointment and he turned around and jogged back to the cabin. _Shove everything your mouth that she gives you and you'll be out of her lunchtime spell in no time. _He sped up with new motivation and practically rolled into the cabin.

"Ninja Blaine!" He shouted as he stumbled into someone standing near the door. He laughed and looked up. His flame of his cheer died out as if a bucket of water had been dumped on it, as he looked up into his father's stern face. "Dad?"

"Blaine, we're going."

His eyes widened and he gripped onto the treasure map, afraid that his dad would see it and take it from him. He looked around wildly for his aunt. She was sitting on her bed, looking at him with kind but sad eyes.

"Aunt-"

"Come on, Blaine," his father gripped his shoulder. "I left the car running." Blaine looked up at his dad with tears building up in his eyes.

"I like it here," he said softly.

"It's not safe here," his dad placed his back pack in his hands, it felt heavier to him. He quickly unzipped it and saw the book of fairy tales. His head jerked up from the bag and looked at his aunt, she nodded to reassure him.

"Can I at least say goodbye to him?" She said softly, standing up from her bed.

The moment was silent and straining as Blaine watched his father consider the proposition. "You have one minute, I'll be back." He grunted and carried Blaine's luggage out of the cabin. "Don't try to plant any ideas in his head, Jenny."

Blaine dropped his bag and map and ran into his Aunt's arms, tears already spilling out of his eyes. "I don't want to go! Hide me away! Cover in me in pixie dust so I can stay on the ceiling where no one can catch me." He mumbled into her shirt. She shushed him and patted his back gently.

"Blaine, I need you to listen to me one more time okay?" She pushed him off her and knelt down in front of him to look Blaine in the eyes. "No matter what _anyone _says, you can be with whoever you want to be with. Boy or girl."

He furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded in agreement.

"Hands fit if you _want _them to."

He nodded again, this time more firmly. This was what he wanted to believe and so he would believe it, this didn't make him sad or ashamed.

"Alright times up, Champ." She gave him another hug and whispered in his ear. "Keep on believing in fairy tales, Blaine. They just might save you from reality."

He didn't understand what those words meant but nodded all the same.

"I can come back next year right?" He asked as she slid his back pack on his shoulders. She didn't answer him and he turned around to stare at her with wide appraising eyes. "Right?"

She smiled down at him and ruffled his hair, causing him to whine and swat at her hand. "Sure, you can come back next year."

"Blaine, it's time to go." He father stepped into the cabin, and Blaine felt the atmosphere shift drastically. He looked down at his feet and mumbled a response. The map was next to his sneakers and he quickly snatched it up.

"Sunshine," Blaine jerked up and looked at the two adults. "I have to say goodbye to Sunshine!"

"I'm sure he knows you say goodbye."

"No, he thinks I'm going to meet him."

"Blaine, Sunshine is always with you," his aunt smiled as if he was being endearing.

"But he is waiting…"

"Blaine Anderson, we are leaving," his father gripped his shoulder tightly and steered him toward the door. "We don't have time to go looking for your imaginary friend."

"He isn't imaginary," Blaine shouted and yanked away from his dad. "He is a…he is a pirate, he is a fairy, he is a lost boy!" He tried to scramble away from Mr. Anderson's grip and out of the cabin door. "He is Sunshine and he is my friend!" For a moment he thought he was flying but instead it was his father picking him up. "Sunshine!" Blaine cried out, hoping that his friend would hear him. "Sunshine!" He screamed even louder over the shouts of his father.

He was forced into the backseat of his dad's sleek black car.

"Not a single word from you, Blaine." His father muttered. Blaine remained silent, knowing that he was defeated. He sniffed and wiped at his eyes, folding his arms and leaning his head back in his seat. "What did your aunt tell you, Blaine?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me what she said."

"She didn't say anything dad. She just said goodbye."

_Goodbye, Sunshine. I'll see you next year. _

()

The flowers around him seemed to wilt more and more as he waited. _Maybe I didn't make the map nice enough. But I used a ruler, I traced each possible path. I even lined the paths with graham crackers._ Mike pouted and plucked at one of the flowers in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing Moonbeam's face when he set his eyes on this field of white flowers.

He fell back into the flowers and looked up at the orange sky with a frown still on his face. _Maybe his aunt made him stay, maybe he is in trouble. _He jumped up quickly and grabbed a handful of flowers. "Maybe I should save him."


	5. Kurt Hummel and The Strong Men

Dust had collected on the book. Rapunzel's face was white with the inch of it that had built up over the years. Blaine ran a finger over it so her blue eyes could stare at him once more with her knowing smile and warm complexion. He blew on the cover and coughed as the dust climbed up in his throat.

"Well that was pleasant," he said sarcastically to himself. He sat down on the couch and flipped through the pages, looking for one certain story. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden, and probably lice infested hair," he came to the page that he had managed to keep memorized after years of not opening the book. The flower fell out and into his hand. It felt like paper that had been wrinkled up over and over until it was made soft by all the miniature creases and bends. He gently pushed it back onto the page and picked up the flattened and weakened construction paper map.

_"Keep on believing in fairy tales, Blaine. They just might save you from reality."_

Blaine blinked and closed the book quickly. Reminders of his aunt felt like minor stabs in his gut. He didn't know her very well. In fact the only time he saw her after that summer was when he was holding his own flowers above her open casket. It didn't hurt him as much as it used to but her death was always there in the back of his mind, her words were always there when he felt the self-doubt about his actions. He owed a lot to her.

_She would want me to keep on believing in you, Sunshine._Blaine rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. It was an old argument that he often found himself replaying in the dead of night or in the early morning, whenever his thoughts were free to roam.

Now the argument had manifested itself in his mind as he stared down at the book and felt a little regret for being so _desperate. So goddamn desperate._He put the book on the stack of boxes next to the couch and leaned back.

He pulled his legs up onto the couch and sighed as he closed his eyes. When these memories struck, he felt like his mind was temporarily cleared from confusion and that it was all make believe. The trouble with this was when he snapped out of the state. He was reminded of the fairy tale life his childhood was and how dull real life really was for him.

Blaine placed a hand on his churning stomach. He felt the familiar, empty hunger to feel that way again. He also hated that he was so in love with the idea of this boy that grew older with him in his imagination. He couldn't get over the idea of a grown up Sunshine, smiling over at him or holding his hand… or kissing him. Blaine couldn't let go of the foolish idea that something about his imaginary friend was real.

Maybe it was the handwriting on the construction paper map, so different from the handwriting on his own elementary school worksheets. That was thing that made him cling on to the surrealistic idea of Sunshine the most. _Unless it was just a map that I found and I made up that it was given to me._Everything was so clear in his memory as well. Every moment he shared with this fictional boy went through his head like a reel of vintage footage. He guessed it was his dramatic nature that put the moments in sepia tone or maybe it was his dramatic nature that invented the boy in the first place.

He blamed so many of his failures on this attribute. The most recent was Jeremiah, the hunk that worked at the Gap. After two coffee dates, Blaine believed that he was in love. He convinced himself that Jeremiah's smile had the same effect on him as did the kiss that Sunshine had given him. _If you really think about it, he didn't pay for the coffee quickly because he was so overcome with love for you and he couldn't bear to be around you because he was afraid of his own feelings._

Blaine groaned in annoyance of his own obsession and sat back up on the couch, leaning forward on his knees and staring at the floor boards under his feet.

_Sunshine is my opposite, the person I want to be… with. Kind, considerate, selfless. Why can't I be like this person that I made up in my own head?_

He was slowly pulled out of his thoughts when his cell phone started to buzz in his pocket.

-Warbler blaine! I'm on my way with Finn, Puck, Sam and Mik-

He twitched at the sight of the word 'Warbler' in front of his name. It made him feel like a branded horse tossed, forever behind a fence. Even Kurt, the one who was kind hearted and enthusiastic about individuality, believed that Blaine was enough was just another Warbler, tossed in with the rest of them. He probably meant it out of irony but it still stung.

-Mik?-

-Whoops! I mean Mike.-

-Is that one of Finn's jock buddies?- Blaine swallowed nervously and stared at his phone in anticipation. Kurt had never mentioned this Mike kid as a member of the Glee club so he was instantly wary. The image of fists came clashing into his memory. The memory of the brutal night when three pairs of fists drilled into his gut came to him so quickly that he blinked a little in surprise. As did the memories of Sunshine were colored in warm browns and oranges with filmy textures, these memories also had their own attributes. They were rough and jumpy and bright red, every detail was sharp and pointy and the colors glared from heightened exposure. His stomach churned again, but this time with displeasure.

-I think Mike is on the football team. He is a dancer for ND. Can't sing though. D:-

_Can't sing? Like it's some kind of fault if he can't sing?_

-Everyone can't have a god given singing voice like yours, Kurt.-

-;D-

Blaine's fears quickly disappeared and he put his phone back into his pocket, taking in a breath of relief that it was just another glee club member.

()

"Hello, welcome to the Anderson residence!" Blaine said cheerily as Kurt walked in, followed by Finn and three other boys.

Kurt put his hands together and stared at the large entrance hall. His eyes bright as he looked from the antique umbrella stand to the original Indian rug on the floor.

"Oh Blaine, your house is outstanding and the entire scheme is just," Kurt threw his hands up and then dropped them to his side as his shoulders lifted with a contented sigh. "Works."

"Thank you, my mom did it," he said carelessly.

Blaine anxiously looked over at Finn and his three friends. _Aah, they are all too tall,_was Blaine's first reaction. He observed them carefully while Kurt praised and gushed about the interior design of the house.

The one standing in the front with both of his hands stuffed into his sun-bleached jeans intimidated Blaine at first with his steely stare and bristly mohawk. Then he cracked a smile and nudged the boy next to him, and the fear crawled away.

The second boy struck curiosity in Blaine with his obviously dyed hair and set of big pouty lips. _Ah, this must be that Sam kid that Kurt told me about._ He was looking around at the house in complete awe as if he had just stumbled upon Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. The look that Sam gave his surroundings made Blaine feel guilty and naked in his family's wealth.

His guilt melted away when he looked to the last boy, he was placing a hand on Sam's shoulder as if to give comfort and understanding. His hair was a straight black and spiked up, naturally. _Very nice hair, very well styled._ Looking at him made him feel trapped in his own gelled down hair. His Asian ethnicity was clear and reminded Blaine of the many cousins on his mother's side of the family. Though this boy had lighter skin and was a clearly of Chinese descent.

"Oh sorry Blaine, I was going on about your furniture." Kurt walked over to the other three boys. This is Puck," he pointed to the boy with the Mohawk. "Sam and Mike," he stood between the Sam and the Asian boy, putting the hand on each of their shoulders.

"It's very nice to meet you," Blaine stuck his hand forward and shook Puck's hand and then Sam's and then Mike's.

"So, you needed strong men, I brought you strong men. They'll do whatever you want them to." Kurt said, clapping his hands together happily. Blaine opened his mouth, completely dumfounded by Kurt's words. He made it sound like it was something suggestive. Or maybe it was Blaine that just had the kind of mind that would turn it into something suggestive. Blaine pressed his lips together in a sincere smile, amused by Kurt's naivety and his own perverted thoughts.

"Yes, I need some help moving stuff from the attic to this hallway and to the basement," Blaine said, suppressing a bigger smile as he noticed Sam and his friend exchanging knowing looks. It seemed as though he wasn't the only one that read sexual innuendo into Kurt's words. Surprisingly enough they didn't seem disgusted by it, just amused. "I wouldn't ask for help, but it's like," he threw his hands up and gestured wildly. "Complicated furniture stuff."

"Smooth words, Blaine."

"Please tell me he uses smoother words when you two are alone," Puck said, laughing loudly and nudging Kurt. Blaine's eyes widened and Kurt blushed and looked away. He felt the panic of pressure surround him again. It felt the same as when Kurt had told him about his feelings for him. It was the kind of pressure to make everything the way they wanted to so questions weren't asked and eyes didn't stare. _But I just want to be his friend; I don't want to worry about that kind of stuff, not with my best friend. Even his friends expect this from me._

"Shut up, Puck!" Sam smacked him upside the head and chuckled.

"Why don't you lead the way, Blaine," Finn said anxiously as he shifted his feet uncomfortably. Blaine could tell that he wanted to step out of the awkward tension that Puck provoked.

He nodded, grateful for Finn's interruption. He twitched his head toward a set of stairs before walking toward it, his shoes filling the silence with their squeaking against the tiled floor.

"Any particular reason why you have to move this furniture?" Kurt asked as he waved the dust away from his face and coughed slightly. "This is _not_ good for my health."

"My dad wanted me to, he is giving all the furniture to a nursing home, and turning this attic into a billiard room. The boxes are going to be moved to the basement."

"As charitable as that is, I don't see why he can't pay for some movers."

Kurt eyed the couch that Blaine was sitting on earlier, he seemed to be debating on whether he should take a seat or not.

"Why hire workers when you have an able-bodied son with nothing to do," Blaine said in a low and gruff voice, his best imitation of his father that he could pull off. Kurt was the only one that laughed and it was out of clear sympathy, he smiled politely before sitting down on the couch.

"Dude, how are you going to help us sitting down?" Finn said, opening his mouth in surprise.

"Just let me relax for a moment, Finn," Kurt pulled his legs up and sent a smirk to his step-brother. "I had to ride up here listening to you blab about Lego Star Wars."

"Star Wars is the bomb! Don't hate!" Puck said defensively before running a hand over his Mohawk and looking around the attic. "So we are taking all of this down?"

Blaine bit down on his lip and looked around as well. It was a room full of dusty towers of boxes and beaten down sofas and lawn chairs. "Yup, all of it."

Puck looked to his friends pointedly. "Get to work guys, I'm not missing Berry's party to…" He lost track of his owns words, he eyes falling on an open box, the box that Blaine dug his book of fairy tales out of earlier. "Dude, can I buy these?" He pulled out a pair of old boots with worn laces and golden clasps. Blaine recognized them as his father's old army boots.

"You can have them, no charge," he shrugged and turned to another stack of boxes.

"Awesome!"

"Yes, very nice, Blaine," Kurt said happily before looking over at Finn. "Rachel is throwing a party and she didn't invite me?"

Finn shrugged as he picked up a box.

"Maybe she doesn't want you to come, I mean you are our rival now," Sam said before grabbing a stack of chairs. Kurt scoffed and sat back on the couch, resting an arm on the back of it and flicking his hand carelessly.

"We're going."

"We're?" Blaine tore his eyes away from Puck trying comparing the boots with the shoes he had on at the moment, using an amused Mike as someone to lean against as he balanced on one foot and brought the soul of the boot to his foot.

"You, you and me."

"Kurt, Rachel did wan-"

"What have you been looking up on the internet late-"

"Alright, you two can go," Finn said, sending a glare to Puck who just imitated the sound of a cracking whip quite well to Blaine's surprise.

Blaine grinned at the prospect of hanging around Kurt's friends. He enjoyed it so much when Kurt spoke of his New Directions days and the friends he made through the club. From the stories that Blaine had heard they all seemed wonderfully abnormal and original. _Except that Asian boy. Matt? Matty?_Kurt never brought him up. Blaine stole a glance at him and the name came to him. _Mike or Michael. Which does he prefer? _Then it suddenly hit him as he stared at the boy's furrowed brows while he turned an old clock in his hands. Blaine smiled at the remembrance of when he first actually saw Mike. It was at sectionals when he danced on stage during Santana's solo. _("Oh my god, Santana is such a fierce bitch. Bravo, San. Bravo," had been Kurt's commentary on the performance.)_

He shrugged and followed Finn down the stairs carrying a few fragile things that were to be placed on the shelves in the basement, right next to old trophies and boxes of childish paintings with Blaine's name smudged across them.

()

Kurt stayed on the couch until it was the last piece of furniture left. By this time Blaine felt icky with sweat and his arms felt weak, he was about to join Kurt on the coach when a movement caught his eye.

Mike was walking toward the window, which was covered by a thick canvas pull down curtain. He turned to look at Blaine and nodded his head toward the window, asking if it was okay to open it and let the sun shine into the damp and dusty attic. Blaine's eyes crinkled up in a warm smile and he nodded his head, glad that Mike suggested the idea.

He yanked at the end of the canvas curtain and it snapped up quickly. Blaine watched with awe as tiny dust particles exploded from the cover as it rolled on its supporting bar. The sunlight pouring in gave the dust specks a sort of sparkle as they covered Mike who was twitching his nose up and squinting his eyes from the sudden light. Blaine let his imagination take over as the dust settled around Mike and the light overtook the boards beneath them. Perhaps it was the fact that he had uncovered his childhood earlier that day by fishing that book from its box, or perhaps it was Mike's ethnicity and kind eyes, whatever it was, Blaine felt peaceful and childlike in that moment, like the dust wasn't ordinary dust and if he closed his eyes and just wished for his imaginary friend to come back, it would be so.

"You okay, Blaine?" Kurt's voice snapped him back into reality.

He blinked and shook his head, not realizing that he was staring and blushing hard when he realized that Mike was smiling at him, amused again. _That's all he has been this entire time, amused._

"The dust," Blaine explained. "It is glittering in the sun light, I just thought it was… beautiful."

There was silence until everyone started to laugh and Blaine felt his blush increase. He looked back over at Mike, who wasn't laughing, instead he was looking in front of him and waving a hand through the unsettled dust, which spun around his fingers like it was magic sparkling out of his fingertips.

"Dude, are you stoned?" Puck said with a laugh. Blaine let out a single 'ha' and shrugged.

"I think this room is getting to me, too stuffy and all of this dust is clearly having an effect on me," he forced a smile.

"Too much dust isn't good for anyone," Kurt said with a yawn and stretched his arms out like a kitty just waking up from his nap. Blaine held back a laugh as he imagined whiskers sprouting out of his cheeks.

"Aw, come on, Kurt," Finn said, exasperated. Kurt smiled up at him.

"Done already?"

Blaine chuckled and rolled his eyes a little. "We need to move the couch."

Kurt pulled a disinterested look and propped one of his legs up.

"And what is stopping you?"

Puck walked over the edge of the couch and then nodded his head to Sam, smirking evilly. Sam walked to the opposite side and helped Puck lift the couch.

"Oh my god," Kurt clutched onto the couch, his eyes wide with fear. "Don't you dare drop me!"

"Ah, let me help," Finn ran to the back of the couch and held it from there, his face stiff with concentration as they shuffled toward the stairs.

"You two want a ride?" Puck asked jokingly as Kurt regained his composure and crossed his legs, with his head up in defiance.

"I'd rather not," Blaine threw his hands up and backed away, expressing how badly he didn't want to risk a couch ride no matter how strong these boys were.

"Mike?"

Mike responded with a vigorous shake of the head. They all laughed as Kurt attempted to sound unaffected by their jerky movement and threats to drop him.

Blaine took advantage of the moment alone with the mysterious unspoken Mike.

"Do you prefer Mike or Michael?"

The boy paused, like he was planning on following his friends down the stairs. _I have trapped him in an awkward conversation; it is my fate, making boys uncomfortable._Instead of the awkward shifting that Blaine was used to, Mike smiled brightly, seemingly pleased at the attention.

"I don't really care, everyone calls me Mike," Blaine liked how calm his voice was, but it still cracked with a strange goofiness. It was the voice of a man that laughed and smiled a lot. He felt as if the boy's words were like a magnet, drawing him in and fascinating him. In those few words Blaine could tell that he wanted this boy to be his friend. He then wondered why Kurt never bothered to mention Mike, since he clearly stood out above the rest.

"Well Michael, Kurt hasn't told me much about you, except that you can dance and you play football?" Blaine winced, regretting his words at once.

Mike blinked a little, like he was surprised.

"Ah, well, that's all most people know about me."

Blaine couldn't tell if he was hurt or still amused by the fact that Kurt knew so little about him. He opened his mouth to respond when a loud shout calling his name echoed up the stairs.

He sent an apologetic smile to Mike and it was responded with a simple shrug and a calm smile.

"I'll just-"

"Don't worry about it. I'll bring the rest of the boxes down."

"Are you s-"

"Go on, you're needed."

Blaine nodded and chuckled a little bit as he went down the stairs. He felt the familiar bubbly sensation in his stomach at the prospect of new friendship.

"Remember what she did to Sunshine, Kurt?"

"Oh don't be so worried, Finn. Blaine's not stupid enough to go to a crack house."

"Sunshine?" His voice cracked when he uttered the word and stared at the two boys. His bubbly feelings quickly disappeared at the mention of Sunshine and he could feel color melting out of his cheeks and he controlled his urge to cling onto Finn and beg him to tell more. The four boys all gave him suspicious stares.

"Yeah…" Kurt took a tentative step forward and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "She is this girl Rachel sent to an inactive crack house earlier this year. Are you okay?"

"Dude, you look like you saw a ghost or something."

Blaine felt embarrassment crawl up his neck and bring color to his face again. _Of course, that's not his real name…wait, duh…he doesn't exist so Sunshine is his real name, but no one else knows that._It's true that he hadn't told a single soul about his adventures. The only people who knew about it were his dad and aunt.

_"But he is real dad! He held my hand."_

_"Blaine, you are too old to have an imaginary friend."_

_"But he isn't-"_

_"You heard me boy. Don't speak of it anymore, it will discourage your mother to know that you are ten years old and you think an imaginary boy is real."_

He looked around at the four boys and flashed a convincingly unaffected smile. "Oh, it's nothing. What did you guys need?"

"Alright," Kurt replied with a skeptical stare. "Make sure you make it known to Rachel that you are not at her party to spy and conspire against New Directions."

He swallowed hard, feeling the urge to close himself in his room, alone with his thoughts. He didn't want to go to the party now. He felt as if someone had held out a treasure map in front of him and then burned it over a candle just to watch him grimace. _Oh god, I must be insane if I prefer to think about an old imaginary friend than go to a party with a friend that actually exists._

"Sure thing!" He said as enthusiastically as he could.

Kurt clapped his hands together a second time and squealed. "Perfect, I have the perfect outfit for it too!"

Blaine was once again interrupted before he could reply by a loud clamoring that sounded behind them. Everyone flipped around to see Mike throwing his jacket on and stumbling toward them.

"Mike? You okay, man?" Sam walked to meet him, holding his hands up as if wondering if he needed to support his friend.

Much to Blaine's surprise, Mike looked straight at him, his dark eyes connecting with Blaine's like he was trying to read his mind. _If you can read my thoughts just nod your head._ The moment was gone quickly and Mike was walking pass them. _Of course he can't read my thoughts, what the hell am I thinking?_

"Fah-family emergency," he said quietly. "I have to go."

"Wait for me," Sam said hurriedly, pulling on his jacket and following Mike to the door. "Sorry about this," He said before shutting the door.

"What the hell?" Finn said when the door was shut.

"Dude, I've never seen Mike act like that." Puck walked to the door and peered out the window next to it. "I hope it's nothing serious." He muttered.

"Why don't you text Sam and see what's up?"

Blaine walked to the other window and peered out, Mike and Sam were sitting in a car with Mike in the driver's seat and he was clutching to the steering wheel and shaking his head while staring at the road in front of him. Sam seemed to be reasoning with him, trying to get him to calm down or get him to talk even.

"Blaine, aren't there a few more boxes up there?" Kurt said in a small voice as he tugged on Blaine's shoulder. He turned around and forced another smile.

"You know what? I'll go and get those." Blaine said and patted Kurt on the shoulder and walked quickly toward the staircase. His motive was to see if he could get a better view of the two boys in the car, but when he reached the window in the attic, he saw that the car was already gone. He sighed and turned toward the last stack of boxes. His eyes widened to see that he had left his book there the entire time. "But didn't I close it?"

When he approached it he found that it was opened at the page with the flower. He felt his stomach churn with nauseating displeasure when he saw that the construction paper map had been removed. _Or did it fall?_Blaine shut the book and looked around the floor for any signs of white construction paper. He opened the top box and dug through his dad's old booklets he used to keep record of gas prices in.

He searched for a few minutes more until someone called out his name for a second time that day. Blaine sighed helplessly and grabbed the boxes, putting the book on top of them. "Coming," he shouted back as he made his way down the stairs, a frown still set in his face from the disappointment of losing one of his fondest treasures. _It's no big deal, Blaine, you have the map memorized anyway._ But it was the texture and the writing he would miss the most. He remembered when he was twelve he would take the book and contents to bed with him and trace the lines on the paper with his finger and feel the rough and crinkled paper. The flower that marked the destination was long gone by then, disappeared within the cracks of his bookcase.

"Are these your friends?" Blaine jerked up out of his thoughts and saw that it was his dad, standing in front of Kurt, Finn, and Puck.

"Uh…yeah, this is Kurt, Finn and Mik-Puck," He said pointing to each of them.

"May I take this opportunity to say what a lovely home you have, Mr. Anderson," Kurt with a debonair smile, and held out his hand to shake.

His dad grimaced and took Kurt's hand for a second before turning to the other boys and shaking their hands more comfortably. He muttered some formalities and then turned to Blaine. "Is that the last of it?"

"Yes," Blaine said quietly, taking the book from the top of the boxes before his dad could notice.

He grunted and walked out of the hallway toward his study.

Blaine exchanged awkward glances with the three of them and chuckled uncomfortably. "I'll just take these to the basement and then we can go to Rachel's party?"

"Well it's not for another hour or-"

"But you can come and hang out at our house if you want?" Blaine could have hugged Kurt for his suggestion and nodded happily. "We'll be out in the car."

Blaine hurried down to the basement and put the boxes down near the end of the stairs. He looked around it for a second, drinking in all of his father's trophies and all of his childhood toys with one glance. He clutched the book of fairy tales in his hand and turned on his heel to walk back up into the hallway.

Thinking that it would be best if he didn't take the book with him to Kurt's house, he ran to his room and placed the book on his bed, he glanced at the blonde woman on the cover for a second and turned to leave. He stopped himself on the threshold of the door as he felt like he was forgetting something. He turned back around and flipped open the book to the correct page. He looked at the flower and ran a finger over its pedals. He smiled a little to himself, allowing the idea to be happy in his mind before shutting the book and leaving his room.

He walked down another hall to his father's study, keeping his feet light out of habit. He had his hand on the doorknob when he heard his own name being spoken. He stood back and craned his ear to listen.

"No, Doctor Ellis, he is just like Blaine, he is… like Blaine. What should I do?" He heard his father sigh heavily and the squeaks of a chair leaning back. Blaine swallowed and listened harder. His father was talking to a therapist, one of the therapists that he was sent to after his Sadie Hawkins incident. "He's a grown boy, he can have whatever _friends_he chooses, and I can't control that. I just wish he would snap out of it and date a nice girl."

Blaine blinked and stood back, removing his hand from the doorknob. He was used to his father's passive attitude about his sexuality. The religious therapist, the car building, the child lock on the internet, and so much more, but this time it was like a blatant slap in the face even though his father never intended for him to hear it.

He bit down on his lip and shook his head, deciding not to disturb his father and walk back down the hall. _I could date a girl… but I can't just make myself feel something for her._He blocked out the thoughts as he walked out the door. _I'm sure Berry's party will help me forget all about this._


	6. Pocket Watch

The thing that Blaine liked most about the summer was the heat of the sun on the bottom of his feet. He would lean up against a tree in his front yard and stick his feet out in front of him and smile as the sun warmed his feet and crept through his toes. He would look up at the tree above and watch as the leaves sparkled slightly under the sun's rays. The small breeze that would sometimes accompany the sun would shake the leaves, making them shimmer as the light side and the dark side of each leaf flicked back and forth.

It was very entertaining for Blaine to see, he felt like the earth was making its own visual music just for him to watch. Sometimes chimes would clink together in the distance (his father didn't like chimes on their front porch because he found them annoying) and he would hum the notes that they played.

He was doing this very thing when Kurt Hummel pulled up to his house, his car not loud enough to rouse Blaine from his thoughts and peace.

His eyes were closed and a small smile was on his face as the sun beamed through the leaves and warmed only the patches of his face that were exposed. He could see the light flashing over his closed eyes every time the breeze shifted the leaves over.

It wasn't until Kurt was standing right above him, completely blocking the sun, did Blaine open his eyes and smile. It was strange seeing Kurt at such an unscheduled time but he was happy at the unexpected visit.

"Hello, Kurt," Blaine stood up and wiped the grass off his pants as Kurt returned the smile. _This is so unlike you, dear. Maybe you are trying something new? I like a break from routine. _"What brings you here on this fine summer's day?" He leaned in to give his boyfriend a kiss but Kurt turned his head so his lips landed on the soft curve of his cheek.

"I'm fine, Blaine," Kurt said stiffly, folding his arms and staring at Blaine. The latter opened his mouth to press further but was stopped by the remembrance of something.

"Let's go inside, I have something to show you," he grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him into the house.

Blaine tried to ignore the way Kurt hesitantly followed him down the hall and into the den. He tried to ignore the heavy sigh that Kurt let out when he sat down on the couch or how Kurt's eyes followed him around, watching him like he was a lost puppy. But something was churning unpleasantly in his stomach and bustling in the back of his mind. It felt someone crinkling an empty candy wrapper near his ear, distracting him and making his entire body twitch. He knew what was coming but, like he so often did, he pushed the thoughts away.

He hurried to his room and came back with a small but long box in his hands.

"What's that?" Kurt said quickly, his eyes flicking from the box to Blaine's face.

"It's a present, we have been together for a while and I thought it was about time I bought you something," Blaine sat down next to him and looked down at the box instead of Kurt, who was staring so hard at him he could feel unavoidable humiliation in his stomach. He took a breath and took the lid off. He reached in and pulled out a long silver chain. Attached at the end of it was a clear pocket watch. Its gears clearly visible and moving in perfect timing with the clock over the piano in that very room they were sitting in.

"It's really nice Blaine. No, I can't take it," he protested as Blaine went to place it in his hand.

"Kurt, I just got my check from six flags and I have nothing to spend the money on, why shouldn't I spend it on someone I lo-"

"Don't-"Kurt stood up fast, causing the box to fall to the ground, Blaine jumped back in slight surprise. "Don't say that."

Blaine raised his eyebrows, pulling an oblivious face and hoping he could convince himself that he didn't know what was coming.

"I-is it too much for you?" He looked down at the watch, still in his hands, and felt tears starting to build in his eyes. Kurt didn't respond and so Blaine just stared at the cogs working against each other perfectly to make the clock softly tick every second. He ran a finger over the smooth glass surface and finally spoke again, afraid of the silence. "Why?"

"Why what?" Kurt's response was quick and practiced as if he was expecting it from Blaine.

"Why are you breaking up with me?" Blaine sniffed pathetically and dropped the watch, but kept the chain in his fingers, dangling it and watching it swing back and forth. It was supposed to put him into a calming trance but his own beating heart counteracted the movements. "Was it something I did?" He finally gathered up the courage to look up at Kurt.

Kurt sighed again and sat down on the couch next to Blaine causing him to twitch back as a hand rested on his shoulder, it was unpleasant and-

"Unnecessary," Blaine muttered and Kurt instantly moved his hand away.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Kurt said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just…let this get further than it should have."

He shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. His emotions felt like they were crawling up his throat. It reminded him of when he would get sick as a child and complain that a beehive had somehow found its way down his throat in the night, making it harder for him to breathe.

"How long have you been thinking about breaking up with me?" He was a little surprised at how strong and clear his voice was.

"I haven't deeply considered it, Blaine, until this week but the thought has crossed my mind a lot since you said…it."

"When I said that I lo-"

"Don't, Blaine."

"Why? It's the truth!" Blaine snapped, tightening his grip on the chain. His eyes still shut tight as he tried to picture something peaceful. He went to his usual thoughts when he just wanted peace. He went over the notes in his head and octaves and he thought of the way piano keys felt under his touch and how each key gave into his smallest touch and left a soft ringing behind after being pushed. Blaine could never decide if the ringing was actually the echo in the piano or if it was echoing in his mind, like the memory of someone's voice after they are long gone.

"…I don't love you, Blaine. I can't lie to you, or to myself any longer."

"What made you lie then?"

"The feeling of being loved I guess," he felt Kurt shrug next to him. "Hear me out Blaine, I don't want you to hate me." Blaine opened his eyes when Kurt stood up, his fingers laced together nervously and his adorable mouth in a pensive and nervous pout. "When I first met you I thought you were going to save me, I thought that you were going to be some knight in shining armor. Until I figured out that you didn't return my feelings, I felt like you had to, because I…I felt like I deserved someone after all of the rejections I have gone through. I expected something of you, like your purpose was to please me. I treated it like it was just an obstacle in my dream come true and that I would win you over eventually and when I did I was on cloud nine for weeks knowing you were all mine."

Blaine almost spoke up here but Kurt was already talking again.

"The problem is, Blaine, is that when I was off that cloud I realized how incredibly convenient this all was. The first out-and-proud gay guy I met is my boyfriend. Then I considered what I would have done if there was more…options. I feel like I fell for you because of your sexuality, not who you are. Now that I see who you are, there is no love, only friendship. You are a really great guy, Blaine. You're amazing, handsome, charming, caring, a little bit stubborn and tactless sometimes but I can be that way as well. I just don't find myself romantically attracted to you anymore."

Blaine listened intently to every word that Kurt spoke, trying to absorb it all without exploding.

"So…you settled for me. I was default."

Kurt's pause stung him more and he blinked, casing a tear to fall down his cheek.

"Blaine I… yes."

_And you kept pushing it on me, yanking me around until I finally had feelings for you and now you tell me it was never real for you. _Blaine closed his eyes and imagined the piano again, this time his feet were bare and pushing down on the golden and smooth petals.

"So you never loved me?"

"I did, at least I loved the idea of you, of what we could have, two gay guys finding each other and living happily together. That's what I wanted but not what I needed. Now it's not what I _want _either. I want real life, not some delusional, generic fairy tale."

"What do you need?"

"I need to be… free. I don't need a boyfriend; I don't need someone to fawn over me. I need myself to be satisfied with my own self before I go looking for anyone else's approval. It's important for me to realize that love doesn't come the way it does in those terribly adorable movies and TV shows. I'm seventeen for Christ's sake, why should I be worried about being in love when I can work on being a star instead."

Blaine felt like he understood what Kurt was trying to say but his head was still buzzing for it to fully connect in him. He was still hurt, confused, and bitter.

"Okay."

"Bla-"

"Okay," Blaine stood up and shook his head and placed a hand on his forehead, his head was pounding and aching. "Y-you can-can you go? Please leave me alone now."

Kurt pursed his lips together and let his hands drop to his sides. By this action Blaine could tell that Kurt was not pleased with the outcome of the conversation.

"Can we still be frien-"

"Kurt, leave. I'll need some time. Take this," Blaine shoved the watch into Kurt's hand. "I don't need the reminder."

It was Blaine that ended up leaving the room first, his fists clenched with frustration as he shut his bedroom door behind him and leaned his head against the door.

He could tell that this was going to be a very long summer.

()

Blaine ended up staying in his room for most of the week, only coming out for dinner or when his mom needed to help in the garden. He was sure she only needed his help because she knew that the sun and air would help him clear his mind and it did help him a little. The work and the sweat caused by the sun and the laboring over stubborn weeds distracted him.

He kept telling himself that he wanted to be happy, but the dramatic part of him wanted to wallow and swoon with lovesick brokenness. He was, once again, contradicting himself as he walked and lived every moment thinking about his entire relationship with Kurt Hummel.

_Did I tell him that I loved him too soon? Isn't that the right moment to tell someone that you love them? I really fucked everything up. I scared him away because I was too willing to be with him. Did he just claim to love me because it was fun to pine after me and lost the claim of love when he finished the game and won it?_

Blaine remembered when he first had feelings for Kurt and what a relief it had been for him to know that Kurt was more than ready to be with him. He didn't think that he would end up being the one with the broken heart.

During these lapses of thought he played through all of the moments before he found romantic interest in Kurt. How could he forget the way Kurt acted when Blaine briefly questioned his own sexuality? It wasn't because Kurt looked up to him, it was simply because he felt possessive over him, anyone could have read that in his actions that day, everyone but Blaine who thought that Kurt was genuinely disappointed in him for thinking he may be bisexual.

Thinking about this made him wonder why he went out with Rachel in the first place, just to spite Kurt? Absolutely not, he considered Kurt a really good friend back then. Deep inside the corners of his mind Blaine knew the reason he suddenly found himself drunkenly attracted to a girl but he was too afraid and stubborn to admit even to himself that his father had any influence over him.

_ Did Kurt just like the thrill of the chase?_ Blaine thought, shoving away any thoughts about his father and replacing them with what seemed like a less painful subject. _Should I act completely disinterested and see if he tries to catch me again?_

He was about to text Kurt to ask if he wanted to hang out-_just so I can show him that I am over him-_when his phone started ringing.

He blinked in surprise, nobody ever called him, sure he would get texts from Wes or Thad or even an occasional forward from David, but never a call.

He looked down and saw that the name "Same Kevins" on the screen. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember when he added this contact to his phone. _Same Kevins? What kind of name is that? Is it a household full of Kevins that all look the same? Did someone change a contact as a prank? _He then realized that the phone was still ringing and vibrating in his grip and quickly flipped it open.

"Blaine Anderson speaking," his voice cracked slightly, he considered that this was because he had not spoken that much in the past week.

"Hey Blaine, it's Sam."

"Sam?"

"Evans, Sam Evans. Er…Kurt's friend. I helped you move stuff from your attic?"

"Oh right, hi Sam." _I must have been drunk when I added him as a contact._ "Did Kurt tell you to call me?"

"No-" Blaine heard someone else murmur something quickly on the other end of the phone-"Yes, Kurt wanted me to check up on you."

Blaine's twitched his lips skeptically, was Kurt with Sam right now? Why would Kurt want Blaine to know he had asked Sam to call? Something about the entire situation was wrong, there was a piece missing.

"I'm fine."

"Dude, you're not fine. You should hear yourself right now. I just got dumped two weeks ago and you sound just like I did last week. I know what it's like."

Blaine let out a long sigh and sat down on his bed, causing the book of fairy tales to slide against his leg. He had it there as a comfort of sorts, never opened since he started dating Kurt but never out of his sight when he was alone in his bedroom with his own free-ranged thoughts. He refused to open it but he loved the feeling of its worn out cover and binding, the way it pulled at the skin on his fingers when he ran a hand over it, like it was secretly beckoning him to keep a good hold onto its brown and red leather fabric.

"Blaine?"

"Uh…sorry, I dazed off."

"You're not okay."

"Okay, fine. I'm not okay," Blaine said in a more pathetic voice than he planned.

"Great-I mean it's not great that you feel terrible but uh… would you like to go bowling?"

"Sam, if you're asking me out I thin-"

"No! No, not at all. I was just… my girlfriend just broke up with me and Kurt just… you know." Blaine nodded, completely forgetting that Sam couldn't see him nodding but Sam continued anyway. "And I was thinking about inviting Mike too, he just found himself dumped yesterday."

"Oh?" Blaine sat up, thoroughly curious now. "And how is he holding up?"

Mike Chang was always an interesting subject for Blaine to think about ever since the former rushed out of his house. Blaine was overly interested in the boy. Mike was in fact the main reason that Blaine was so keen to know Tina, seeing as she was Mike's girlfriend and probably knew the most about him. This was also the reason Blaine discovered that she was the very Tina that he had met at Asian camp those many years ago.

"_Mike and I spent a lot of time together at Asian camp over the summer. It was so hot all the time he was like never wearing a shirt. Not that I was complaining."_

_ "Asian Camp? I went to one when I was a 10. Well, I didn't really go but I helped my-I was there to help clean up."_

_ "Oh? Which one?"_

They had continued to talk about it, and how it got shut down after that year because of safety issues, until Blaine mentioned that he went to the same school as Wes.

_"I don't know who you are talking about."_

Blaine remembered how much her resentment amused him at the time, and he made a mental note never to tell Wes.

"He's fine," replied Sam, snapping Blaine out of his thoughts yet again. "From what I understand it was more mutual than anything."

"Lucky him."

"So are you in? Mike and I can come and pick you up and we can have an awesome single dudes' party," Blaine cracked a small smile at Sam's imitation of an extreme frat boy.

He was instantly torn. His body wanted him to stay at home but his mind was intrigued by the prospect of getting to know the elusive Mike Chang.

When they first met Blaine thought that Mike was going to be a friend, he had that friendly way about him. But Blaine's hopes for friendship were dashed when he noticed that Mike seemed to avoid him every time they met. Even at the 'Lonely Hearts' dinner for Valentine's day when they sat at the same table to eat Mike could not have looked more uncomfortable. Blaine couldn't help but think that something about himself made Mike avoid him. He knew it wasn't his sexuality as Mike was perfectly comfortable with Kurt, he knew it wasn't the fact that they were on opposing teams because Mike seemed to enjoy the Warblers' performances. _Maybe if I get him to tell me what I have done wrong I can fix it somehow, I just have no idea what I did._

"Sure, I'm up for bowling!"

_Mike Chang, you are going to be a very good distraction. _

()

"So, are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"You know… with the map and stuff."

"No, why would I tell him? It's… it's not like I can just throw that at him. I-I need to be his friend first."

"Wouldn't that automatically make him your friend?"

"Exactly Sam, why would I want someone to be my friend just because they knew me when I was ten? I want him to be my friend because of seventeen-year-old Mike, not ten-year-old Mike."

"Whatever, man. I still think you should tell him. He kept that map for a reason. I'm not stupid; I can connect the dots, can't you?"

"Shut up. I'll tell him when I'm ready."


	7. The Mysterious Case of Mike Chang

"I'm not going to lie," Blaine said after a few moments of silence in Mike's car. "This is kind of weird for me."

"Hey man, don't think of us as Kurt's friends, think of us as your new friends," Sam said, turning slightly in his chair and flashing a comfortable and genuine grin.

"This was really nice of you, Sam," Blaine admitted, his eyes flashing to the driver of the car to see if there was any reaction.

"Oh don't thank me, thank-" before Sam could finish his sentence Mike suddenly started to cough, as though choking on something. Blaine almost reached forward to pat Mike on the back, but thought better of it halfway through the action and brought his hand up to fix his own hair. He wasn't normally apprehensive about touching others but Mike's friendly and welcoming atmosphere always seemed to make Blaine shut down.

"Thank who?" Blaine asked after Mike's coughs had died down.

"Thank err… thank my love for bowling. Mercedes and I loved going together." Blaine smiled sympathetically and patted Sam on the back. He could tell something else was up though, something that these two boys weren't telling him. He knew that Sam didn't have money to waste and yet, the entire thing was said to be Sam's idea. Maybe Kurt was lending the money to make sure that Blaine didn't stay in his bedroom for the rest of the summer. Would Kurt go to such lengths to make the boy he didn't love feel more comfortable in his single-boy skin?

Blaine made a mental note to be the one who paid instead of Sam; he had the money to spare.

"I thank your love for bowling," Blaine said with enthusiasm as he sat back in his seat.

Then the silence came back, making Blaine feel awkward and exposed yet again. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea, going around with two of Kurt's friends. He tried to think of them as his friends, but couldn't get past the Kurt Hummel shaped barrier due to the fact of the lack of time he spent with Sam and his quiet friend. It was like that for all of the boys from New Directions except Finn. Though none of them gave him an uncomfortable stare, he still felt like every inch of him was being scrutinized. It was the way he always felt around any boy ever since his trouble at his old school. He found it hard to trust anyone outside of Dalton.

The car stopped at a red light and he folded his arms and looked out of the backseat window for a good distraction from his own thoughts. But it wasn't the nearby houses that ultimately distracted him. Instead, it was his senses kicking into overdrive as it was quite clear that someone was staring at him that brought him out of his thoughts. He felt like he was being sent through some kind of body-scanner, taking in all of his appearance. He could feel the heat of embarrassment crawl up his neck and he brought his hand casually up to his mouth to hide his small, amused smile. Part of him wanted to remain that way so he could continue to get stared at but he thought better of it and turned his head to look at the guilty party.

Their eyes met in the rearview mirror and for the second time, Blaine felt like Mike Chang was reading his mind. It wasn't an intimidating or scary stare, but almost disbelieving or curious. The locked stare only lasted for a few seconds before Mike flashed him an innocent smile, looked back to the road, and began to drive forward.

"Mike!" Sam yelped as a car honked and Mike slammed down on the breaks. "The light is still red!"

Mike mumbled a string of apologies while Blaine covered his mouth again to keep himself from laughing loudly. He felt second-hand embarrassment as the people in the cars around them shouted. After everyone had calmed down and the light turned green, Sam turned in his seat again to face Blaine.

"Mike is a stereotypical Asian driver," he joked and huddled up against the passenger side door as Mike moved to hit him on the arm.

"Next time we should let Sam drive then, better not risk me driving either," Blaine said with a comfortable laugh. _That is if there will be a next time._The other two laughed as well, making him feel more welcome and more at peace with the situation.

"Next time," Sam said with a hopeful voice, "I'll have my own car."

"Ah, Billionaire. Are you really going to make Blaine and I wait that long?"

Sam let out a roar of laughter much to Blaine's relief. In fact, Sam seemed genuinely entertained by Mike's little jab at his greatest problem.

"Oh fuck you, Mike!" Sam said through his laughter. Blaine watched as Mike's shoulders shook with slight laughter. Mike looked over at his friend and smiled warmly. It was amazing to Blaine how lively Sam took Mike's joke. He was aware of a strange feeling building up inside him as he watched both of them. He couldn't quite pinpoint it until Mike reached over and messed up Sam's hair and pushed him. It was jealousy. He was jealous of their obviously close friendship. _It's one of those friendships that you read about in books or see in classic movies. Like Frodo and Sam…though their friendship seems a tad bit more heterosexual than those fictional characters._ Blaine felt an ache for that kind of friendship. _The one time I felt that close to someone was-wait, no… that wasn't real. I have never been that close to someone._

"Stop and get some gas, Asian boy!"

"No, way, Trouty mouth! Tank is half full and we're almost there."

Sam glared at Mike and Blaine felt perhaps that was too far, but Sam's big lips cracked into a huge smile. "Come on, man. I want some Doritos."

Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head as he smiled and flicked on the turn signal. Sam pumped his fist in the air, rejoicing in Mike's giving in. When they pulled into the gas station, Sam made a quick movement to leave the car before Mike grabbed his arm.

"Don't even think about it," Mike held up a five dollar bill between two of his fingers and moved it in front of Sam's face.

"Just this on-"

"We have an agreement, Sammy."

Sam sighed and snatched up the bill. He jumped out of the car and jogged into the gas station.

"What was the agreement?" Blaine asked, leaning forward in his seat and resting his arms on the front seats. He was hoping that it wasn't too impolite to ask.

Mike jumped, as though shocked that Blaine was talking to him, but sent an encouraging smile after his initial reaction, thus relaxing Blaine's worries about his prying.

"You know about Sam's situation, right?" Mike asked, looking ahead instead of up at Blaine.

"Of course, Ku- I have been informed."

"Well, he was living at a hotel with his family and I asked my parents if they could live in our basement over the summer and they-"

"Wow, Michael!" Blaine exclaimed before he could stop himself. Mike flashed a brief, flattered grin before clearing his throat.

"Anyway, I made Sam promise that as long as he stayed at my house, he had to let me pay for anything extra, like snacks," Mike pointed to the gas station as if to show Blaine what he meant. "Music, you know… things that aren't necessary."

"Like bowling."

"Of course. He almost got away with going without my knowledge today, but he changed his mind because he didn't want you to think it was… you know…"

Blaine raised his eyebrows, urging Mike to continue even though there was an obvious blush in his cheeks. He tapped Mike's arm with his finger and Mike's response was quick.

"A date."

It was Blaine's turn to laugh loudly. "I try my best not to accept dates with straight guys, Michael."

Mike's mouth opened as if to respond to that statement but he quickly closed into an amused smile. Blaine considered that as an end to the conversation, so he leaned back in his seat and let out a small sigh.

They waited in the uncomfortable silence yet again, while Sam supposedly bought chips, until Mike finally sat up in his seat.

"What is taking him so long?"

Blaine shrugged and leaned forward just as Mike was pulling out his phone. His fingers flew across the tiny phone's keyboard with such speed that Blaine had to blink quickly just to check if it wasn't his eyes screwing up. The words on the screen were going slower than the clicking of the keys on his phone.

"Wow, you're fast." Blaine muttered more to himself than to Mike.

"I text a lot."

"Probably because you don't talk that much."

It was Mike's reaction that made Blaine realize what he had said was probably rude. Blaine mentally kicked himself as Mike bowed his head down, a blush in his cheeks.

"I mean… sorry." Blaine said weakly with a small apologetic smile.

Mike simply mumbled something and went back to texting quickly, his face still slightly red. Blaine swallowed and sat back in his seat. _Oh god, he is probably telling Sam this was a terrible idea to bring Jerk Anderson out for bowling. They'll both pretend to have a good time and then never talk to me again. Why do I always speak when my brain isn't ready?_

"Can I show you?" Mike asked without looking back at Blaine.

"Show me what?"

"How fast," Mike held up his phone to make a point.

Blaine's eyebrows stitched together in confusion. To him, it seemed like Mike was making a lazy swat at clearing the awkwardness and somehow forgiving Blaine at the same time. He smiled a little and felt unfamiliar warmth in his stomach. It was the pleasure of being forgiven without the seemingly necessary guilt trip before. Never so quickly had he been forgiven for one of his blunders.

"Yeah, okay. I would like that," Blaine said, his lips turning up in a simple smile.

"Come up here," Mike patted the front seat and Blaine felt like he was a little kid being accepted at the popular kids' table during lunch as he clamored up to the passenger's seat.

"Sam won't get mad?" Blaine asked, looking out the window and then over at Mike who had a kind of mischievous smile on his face.

"Oh I hope he does. Consider it payback."

"For?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow and stared over at Mike, and the boy's smile relaxed into softer one. Blaine returned the smile, the warm feeling intensifying as he did so. He felt so _accepted._The look in Mike's eyes was so clear and honest.

"So I need your number," Mike said, pulling away from their shared look and holding up his phone. "You know, so I can send you a text."

"You don't already have it?" Blaine asked teasingly.

Mike only shook his head and smiled while Blaine told him his phone number. ("_It's Anderson, not Warbler._" "_I know_.") Blaine felt an amused smile cross his lips while he watched Mike stick out his tongue as he concentrated on punching in Blaine's phone number into his phone.

Before Blaine could pull out his phone to get ready for Mike's text; it was already buzzing.

**-Mission Log: I have located the subject and am now transporting him to the "Bowling Alley" where Agent E. and I will be sure to make him feel like we can be trusted before initiating plan "drug and abandon in desert" –**

Blaine blinked a few times and re-read the text before he broke into an amused laugh.

"That _was_fast!"

"Skills, Blaine. Skills."

**-Mission Log: I have let the enemy take me captive. Plan "drop bowling balls on their heads," is a go!-**

They continued to text each other with silly codes and plans for a little while longer before Mike got a phone call. Blaine chuckled as Mike fumbled to bring the phone up to his ear.

"Sam, why are you taking so long?" Mike smiled at Blaine apologetically before stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind him. Blaine could only hear a muffled voice through the car door and was sure that Mike was keeping his voice down on purpose.

With a frown, he watched Mike lean up against the window, his back to Blaine and one of his hands rose to his head while the other fiddled with the black rubber that surrounded the bottom of the window. His shoulder tilted up so the phone was pinched between it and his head.

Blaine took the opportunity to observe the entirety of Mike's back. It wasn't the strong shoulder blades that were accented by the way Mike leaned against the window that caught Blaine's attention at first. It was the style of Mike's clothing that first made Blaine look a little closer. He was wearing a red checkered vest made of fabric that looked breezy enough for summertime, while underneath that was a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

Something about this felt odd. It seemed slightly off-balance for Mike to dress so properly and so well. Blaine knew little about Mike's taste in clothing and he tried to remember other times he had seen Mike. His mind instantly recalled their first encounter before Rachel Berry's party. From what Blaine could remember; Mike had worn a plain T-shirt with paint hand prints on it, grey pants, and a deep blue jacket. Blaine wouldn't have remembered it so clearly if it hadn't had been for Mike's see-right-though-you stare and abrupt change in mood that drew him in attention of Mike's presence. _And yet he acted so calm at the party, he even smiled at me… but after that it was like I didn't exist to him._

Blaine continued to stare at Mike as he leaned away from the car and then proceeded to rest his head against the gas tank nearest them. He sat up in his seat a little to catch a glimpse of Mike's choice in pants. Blaine blushed slightly at the fact that he was essentially scoping out Mike's entire body, but it didn't stop him from noticing how tight-fitting Mike's black pants were. Then Mike stretched up to rest one of his hands on the higher part of the gas tank and his vest lifted up slightly to reveal the strap of a suspender.

"Jesus Christ," Blaine mumbled as he looked away and put the edge of his finger between his lips to stop himself from looking back at Mike. There was no denying that Mike was attractive, especially dressed the way he was at the moment.

Blaine dropped his hand quickly when Mike opened the door, sat inside the car, and smiled at him kindly. He quickly glanced over the front of Mike's body and noticed that the top three buttons on his dress shirt were undone. Blaine couldn't help but wonder why Mike was so dressed up.

"Sam is going to be a little while longer, he says that he accidently broke one of the soda machines and he is going to try and fix it," Mike said in one breath. Blaine looked over at him and squinted his eyes, observing Mike's nervous smile.

"Should we go hel-"

"No!" Blaine froze as Mike placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him from opening the door. "I mean—he said that he was almost done."

"Ah, okay…"

They sat in a momentary silence before Mike moved to turn on the radio. A song was just ending but Mike tapped the steering wheel with the ending notes. The amused smile returned to Blaine's face as Mike added his own beats in between the original beats; they worked so well that it surprised him that they weren't actually in the song.

Blaine was about to comment on this when the next song started to play.

_I walked across an empty land…_

_I knew the pathway like the back of my hand._

It felt as though all of his insides were suddenly frozen, even his beating heart felt as though it was in the tight grip of an unseen creature. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, swallowing hard as the song continued.

"Don't," Blaine said, holding his hand up. He could feel Mike moving to turn off the radio. "It's okay."

Mike didn't respond and Blaine was grateful for it, so grateful that Mike understood why he needed to listen to the song he had once sang to Kurt Hummel on the concrete steps of the McKinley High patio.

He thought of Kurt's happy tears and his kind and sympathetic smile as Blaine had begun to cry. He remembered how badly he had wanted to kiss his ex-boyfriend after that but was too afraid to do it in such an amazingly public setting, even though he had just sung an intimate song to him in public. _Kisses are more special than songs, I suppose._He felt tears stinging behind his eyelids and remembered everything he was feeling when he sang that song. It hadn't been saying goodbye to Kurt alone. He had been saying goodbye to his childhood. _I was saying goodbye to you, Sunshine._

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_

_I'm getting old and I need something to rely on…_

_So tell me when you're gonna let me in…_

_I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin._

It wasn't easy for Blaine to block out his imaginary friend for Kurt but he did it, he had accomplished it at one point and Kurt was all he focused on. The memory of Sunshine's hair rustling in the breeze when they laid in the grass was more like a glitch in his life, like someone had scratched the film, and it played a second of someone else's life and imagination. Now all of it came rushing back to him as he listened to the song again.

He pictured the map and how well he knew each line and detail, like it was something he engraved into his eyes and if he opened them, everything would be traced with the lines of that map. Before he gave up on Sunshine, he imagined meeting him in that mythical field of white flowers that Sunshine had told him about.

He pictured it as the song played on. He imagined facing an older Sunshine in that very place where the map was intended to lead him. Blaine could almost smell the flowers, freshly touched with morning dew, and the sun rising slowly behind his imaginary friend as he stood with his hands shoved in his pocket and a small smile on his face, his headphones sitting slanted on his head of wild, black hair.

_If you have a minute why don't we go talk about it…_

_Somewhere only we know._

"This could be the end of everything, so why don't we go, somewhere only we know," Blaine sang as quietly as he could. He shuddered a little bit and wiped at his eyes as the song came to an end. Now all of his obsession with his imaginary friend came back so strongly that he had to lean forward and cradle his head in his hands, completely unaware of Mike Chang staring down at him, his eyes shining slightly as though he was about to cry as well.

It wasn't until he felt the heat of a hand hovering over his back did Blaine freeze again.

"D-do you want me to take you home?"

Blaine stared down at his shoes, heat rising in his face speedily. He wiped his tears away and shook his head defiantly as he sat up, seeing Mike pull his hand away quickly.

"No, I'm sorry. Err… no, I want to h-hang out," Blaine smiled pathetically at Mike and placed his hands in his lap. "That was stupid."

"Not at all," Mike didn't look at him as he spoke. "Nothing wrong with feeling, Blaine. No matter how many people tell you it isn't 'masculine'."

"Thanks," Blaine closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, now very aware of Mike staring at him. "How can you be so calm when you just broke up with Tina?"

"I saw it coming," Mike responded quietly. His words brought Blaine out of relaxed position and he brought himself up to look at Mike, who was now gripping his steering wheel and staring out the windshield.

"Even if you expected it, that shouldn't make it easier." Blaine observed how Mike's eyes were shifting around uncomfortably. "It wasn't a mutual break up, was it?"

Mike shook his head and grimaced. "No, it really wasn't."

"Who—"

"Tina. She said she was letting me go because she thought I was distracted."

"Were you?"

"What?"

"Were you distracted?"

"Ye—no… yes but not in that way. Someon—thing has been distracting me, but not in the way she thought," Mike sighed a little and laughed coldly, "I told her that it wasn't like that but she said that we were already falling apart and that she didn't have strong enough feelings to try and keep it together."

Blaine's mouth fell open in and he almost reached over to pat Mike but he was speaking again.

"But she was right, we were falling apart but neither of us really wanted to fix it, that's why it was mutual because in the end I realized that."

Though he didn't believe that Mike was being completely honest with himself, Blaine did not pry any further, instead he leaned back in his chair and breathed out as he closed his eyes again.

"When Kurt broke up with me—"

"Y-you don't have—"

"I want to," _I need to, and you seem like the kind who would actually listen and help._"When he broke up with me and when I think back on it, I think it sounded incredibly practiced. Each word was so well thought out, like he had memorized it off a piece of paper. He acted it out so… professionally. It makes me wonder if he expected my reactions and practiced his own accordingly. He was so good at hiding it too, I honestly had no idea how he felt until that very moment."

"Maybe," Blaine opened his eyes in surprise. He hadn't expected Mike to talk. "He practiced it because he didn't want to show you how bad it hurt him to break it off. Give yourself and him time and maybe you'll both see how you really feel."

"Do you think he regrets it?"

"There is always a form of regret."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

Blaine could tell that Mike was just trying to cheer him up with his words of hope, but it did mean something to him that he tried.

"Thank you."

"Hey," Mike smiled and glanced over at him. "That's what acquaintances are for."

"Acquaintances? Not friends?" Blaine tried not to sound to hurt by it, but he found himself craving for the kind of friendship that Mike could have given him. He could tell just by the way Mike smiled at him and spoke to him that Mike would be just what he needed in a friend. Mike could be someone who wouldn't judge him, or scorn him, or pester him about his feelings for that matter.

Mike tapped the steering wheel and looked at his knees as if he were having a conversation with them instead of Blaine. "Are you sure you want this crazy Asian driver as your friend?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Awesome."

()

"Mike! Sam!" When they had entered the bowling alley all three of them were surprised to see Puck jogging toward him, wearing a pink and white striped T-shirt and tan cargo shorts.

"Puck, what are you doing here?" Sam asked while folding his arms and shaking his head. "And what are you wearing?"

Puck glanced down at his attire and then looked up with a nonchalant scoff. "Dude, it's uniform and I rock any look!"

Blaine chuckled as Mike and Sam exchanged a look of doubt but said nothing. Instead he stepped back a little; feeling like he was intruding and he didn't want Puck to notice and question why he was there when he clearly didn't belong.

"You work here? What happened to pool cleaning?"

"I'm doing both this summer." Puck said with a proud smile. It was odd to see someone like Puck smiling with such confidence in such an outfit, which clashed with his Mohawk. "What about you guys?"

"Still delivering pizza."

"I've been hired at a Chinese restaurant," Mike said with a defeated sigh. Then they all did something that Blaine wasn't expecting; they turned to look at him. "What about you, Blaine?"

"O-oh. I do performances at Six Flags every week," he said in a quiet voice, hating how shy he was acting.

"Dude, that is awesome," Puck said, nodding his head in approval. "Getting to perform for money. I used to do that but in a different way." He said with a wink.

"No one wants to hear hints of your life as a male prostitute, Puck," Mike said with a laugh and grabbed Puck's shoulder. "We have come to bowl! Do your job and provide us a lane." Mike pushed Puck toward the counter.

"Hey," Sam stopped Blaine before he could follow Mike. "Stop being so quiet okay? You're not gonna get anywhere with this if you creep in the background."

Blaine blushed deeply and looked down before nodding.

"Mike didn't say anything when I was having that little adventure did he?"

"Well…" Blaine thought about the way he had shown how weak and affected he was to Mike not even ten minutes earlier, and how Mike didn't judge him or laugh at him and tried to cheer him up. It wasn't something that he wanted Sam to know about. He didn't want anyone to know about how he felt. He feared that it made him less of a man no matter how many times others corrected him on this; it was still a looming doubt.

"Well what?"

"We didn't talk about anything in particular," Blaine swallowed and shrugged, looking over at Mike, who was leaning over the counter with his feet in the air. Puck was pushing at his face and laughing as Mike was clearly trying to mess up what he was trying to type in the bowling alley computer. Blaine noticed that Mike's shoes were different from the rest of his outfit, they were red sneakers. Blaine was half-expecting Mike to be wearing classy leather shoes or boots, but the sneakers went extremely well with the rest of the outfit. "Does he have somewhere to go after this?"

"Who, Mike? No. Why?"

"He is all dressed up."

That got a laugh from Sam and he patted Blaine on the back. "That's just the way he dresses."

He stared at Sam skeptically and brought his mouth up to the side in a confused smile.

"Well, he started dressing that way around February. He has changed a lot of things since February actually," Sam said, his voice hinting as if there was something more to what he had said.

Blaine quirked his eyebrow up, wondering why Sam was telling him the exact month Mike Chang had started to change.


	8. Odd Questions

Blaine found himself once again disappointed in the progress of his friendship with Mike Chang. At first, he was pleased with their potential from the conversation they had in Mike's car, and the entire bowling alley adventure. But after that all was over, Sam was the only one that bothered to really keep in touch.

Sam had often invited Blaine out for pizza or out for ice cream, there wasn't a day that went by that Blaine didn't find himself invited out, even if it was only for an hour or so, with their clashing schedules finding a way to shorten their 'Bro time' as Sam would call it. Of course, Mike was always present, for he would not allow Sam to pay for anything, and even when they just went out biking or to the park with no expense Mike still tagged along but still felt so distant to Blaine.

Blaine was stretched across his bed with his legs hanging over the edge and his arms under his head, thinking about the events that day. Sam had told Mike to come and visit him on break and Mike had gone around to Blaine's house in hopes that he would join. The ride to the pizza place was the most interaction they had had since Blaine's emotional outbreak. He had a lingering fear that perhaps that was why Mike was so distant with him.

Mike had told Blaine that he and Tina were now becoming friends and that the awkwardness between them was slipping away.

_ "So, you think you are over her now?"_

_ "I like to say that I am, but I know if she ever asked for me to come back, I would without a second thought."_

And Blaine had to agree with Mike's mentality on the subject of exes. If Kurt were to call him up, he wouldn't give it a second thought.

Blaine brought a hand down to his chest and attempted to rub away the heat of the fading heartbreak away. It had been a month since their break up and Blaine hadn't cried about it since his brief breakdown at the gas station. He could feel himself mending quite well, though he hadn't dared to contact Kurt in fear that the pain would come back again.

He was about to reach and turn off his bedside lamp when the phone sitting next to it started buzzing. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he pulled the phone closer to him. He flipped it open and a smile came to his face as he read the text.

**-Hey Blaine, I have a question for you. Are you afraid of heights?-**

** -No, I'm not, never have been. Is that weird?-**

** -Of course not.-**

Blaine was halfway through texting a response when he received another text, reminding him just how quick Mike was when texting.

**-Blaine, what is your favorite smell?-**

** -Weird question. I'm not really sure, I like outdoor-ish smells. Like campfires and grass.-**

** -Good thing you don't allergies-**

** -Don't HAVE allergies, Michael. Even if I did it wouldn't stop me from enjoying the smells that nature has given me.-**

** -Right, derp. Sorry I was texting too fast-**

Blaine was once again about to respond when his phone buzzed quickly after that.

**-I like how you do that.-**

Blaine smiled, amused by Mike's words. He didn't know why he liked that he had no idea what Mike was even talking about. He supposed that it was kind of innocent. He paused before sending a reply, thinking about all he knew about Mike Chang. He knew that he could dance and that he was very quiet, but was he as innocent as he looked and sounded? Blaine closed his eyes and smiled as he remembered Mike talking and the way he formed his words so carefully and how real they were. Blaine's smile widened and he shook his head as he thought of all the times that Mike had pulled ridiculous faces in opportune moments. Blaine loved how childlike Mike Chang could be, and yet so smooth at other times.

The smile quickly turned to a frown. Blaine had seen Mike be this way only when he was playing around with Sam. When Mike was around Blaine, he was quite different, less full of expression and more subdued. It was as if he wanted to be fragile around Blaine, that he thought Blaine would break if he acted normal. He hated Mike Chang for that. He hated himself for wanting Mike to accept him so badly, accept and treat him the way that he treated Sam.

Blaine pouted and looked down at his phone, debating on whether or not he wanted to reply.

**-Do what?-**

** -Make every little thing so important.-**

** -What do you mean?-**

** -Nevermind. I have bed.-**

** -I have a bed too, Michael. What a strange announcement.-**

** -Shut up! I forgot a word or two 'I have to go to bed' is what I meant to text. I have work tomorrow.-**

** -Waking up early then?-**

** -Bright and early with the sunshine!-**

Blaine shut his phone after reading Mike's last text, choosing not to keep Mike up any longer. He rolled over on his bed and set his phone down on the bedside table, where he also picked up the book of old fairy tales that he had read through from back to front several times since he re-discovered it

He pulled the flower out, pressed it lightly to his lips, and then put it next to his phone. He flipped the book fully open and scanned over the story before him. His mind was too occupied for him to really focus on the story. His head was too full of thoughts. _Is he so closed off to me because I am gay? _He always thought this, but then quickly stamped it out, he knew people that were uncomfortable around homosexuals and they didn't act the way Mike did. Blaine chewed on his bottom lip and attempted to focus on the curves of each letter on the page before him. He knew that Mike cared about him to an extent, but he still seemed so uncomfortable.

He was broken from his string of thoughts when his phone buzzed again. He couldn't help but smile as he turned and picked up his phone to see another message from Mike.

**-Sunshine-**

** -You spelt it right the first time, Michael.-**

** -Goodnight.-**

** -Goodnight. -**

An amused smile still on his face, Blaine went back to staring at his book without really reading it. He turned the page and was about to start reading when his phone buzzed again. He shook his head and flipped it open, expecting it to be a text, but when he looked at the screen he found that he had just answered a phone call.

"H-hello?" He sat up in his bed and held his phone to his head, hoping that his delay wouldn't cause Mike to hang up.

"Hey," Mike's voice cracked on the other end of the line and Blaine stood up from his bed.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Why are you calling?"

"Felt like calling. I didn't get you into trouble, did I?"

"No, no, I have my phone on vibrate so no parents heard it," Blaine said with a laugh as he sat back down on his bed. "Okay, so is there a reason you felt like calling, or do you have nothing to say to me?"

"I'm really bad at hint dropping, Blaine."

"I didn't notice." He laughed again and scratched his head, a grin forming on his lips.

"You wouldn't, would you?"

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed, there was something different in Mike's tone.

"Are you sure everything is alright?"

"I was trying to drop a hint, Blaine."

"Why don't you just tell me what you were trying to tell me then?"

Blaine waited for Mike to respond and brought his knees up to his chest and sat back against his headboard, a curious smile replacing the former grin. He couldn't deny that he was happy that Mike had called him for the first time ever in their month long friendship.

"When I told you about Tina today in the car, I was trying to drop a hint."

Blaine felt something lurch in his stomach as his mind jumped to all sorts of conclusions. _What if he is trying to tell me that he is over Tina because he wants to be with me? I'm not ready for this! I'm not ready for this! Abort! Abort! _

"I was trying to tell you that the sooner you talk to Kurt, the sooner you can get over him and just be his friend, because that's what he wants right?"

Blaine swallowed and the churning in his stomach turned to a sort of chill. He would have taken a strange and awkward profess of feelings than this.

"Blaine? Are you there?"

"Funny, I thought it was going to be something serious."

"I crossed a boundary, didn't I?"

Blaine took a breath and leaned back again. He hadn't talked to Kurt in a month and had succeeded in suppressing thoughts about the whole situation to the back of his mind. He had good distractions. He had his new friends to talk to him and his job at six flags with all the oblivious girls hitting on him.

He had performance in general, something he always used as a sort of vessel and mask. He didn't have to be himself when he was performing. He was stronger and braver and someone he imagined he could be, if he just got rid of all the taunts and abuse from his past. Now that he had lost Kurt, performing had given him the strength to force it all from his mind.

Now Mike Chang was purposefully bringing it up and there was no stage and no song he could sing.

"I don't know," Blaine said at last, his voice barely escaping his mouth.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I blame my tiredness. I'll go to bed now, pretend I didn't say—"

"No!" Blaine said loudly, putting his hand up as if he thought Mike could see his gestures. "I mean—sure, since you're tired. But don't hang up because you think you've upset me."

"Ah, good. Okay, I'll go to bed now. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, if you are available for another one of Sammy's crazy schemes."

"Yeah, I always look forward to those," Blaine said, the smile returning to his lips.

"So," Blaine heard Mike take a long breath. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight," Blaine said happily before he shot up again. "Wait!"

"Yes?"

"I don't know if I am bad at dropping hints or not. I've always been incredibly upfront about things, if you haven't noticed. I wanted to know something."

"Yeah?"

Blaine shook his head and put his hand to his face, as he was now blushing from the humiliation that was sure to come after confronting Mike about the one thing that had been openly on his mind for a while.

"Did-did I scare you off somehow?"

Blaine pinched his eyes shut and waited with held breath for Mike's answer, which took longer than he expected.

"What do you mean?" Blaine could hear the nervousness in Mike's voice that revealed that he knew exactly what Blaine meant.

"That day we went to bowling alley and Sam was getting Doritos and I started," Blaine lowered his voice to say the next part of his question as if it was his deepest secret. "I started crying. Did that scare you away?"

"No."

Blaine almost shouted but put a hand to his mouth to resist the urge. After a moment of fighting this urge, he replied. "Then, what did I do?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Blaine."

"So why aren't we friends?"

"We are friends."

"Not from where I'm standing."

"Whoa, no need for sass here, Blaine."

"Do you even want to be my friend?" Blaine brought his thumb up to his mouth and chewed on his nail. It was an anxious habit of his and he could feel the worry bubbling in his stomach. Was Mike honest enough to talk about how he felt or was he going to lie?

"Yes," Mike said with a sigh, obviously not liking the pressure the conversation was putting on him. "Yes, I want to be your friend. I'm sorry. I'm… not very good at it."

"So you normally act like this when you are around new people?"

"No, not really."

"I'm so glad that I'm a special case," Blaine replied with heavy sarcasm.

He heard Mike sigh on the other end of the line and immediately felt guilty.

"C-can I make it up to you somehow?" Mike said so quietly that Blaine had to repeat the words in his mind a few times for it to fully register to him.

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"What do you think I should do?"

Blaine smiled, once again finding himself amused by the boy. It was hard for him to stay upset with Mike, when Mike seemed so sincerely sorry for his neglect. In fact, Blaine was inclined to tell Mike to forget about it but Mike was already continuing.

"Next time we hang out, you can pull me aside and ask me any question you want and I'll answer them all honestly."

Blaine's mouth drew up in a wide smile as he considered all the questions he could ask.

"Can I ask some right now?"

"Of course."

"I notice that you seem to have a lot of different shoes. Which pair is your favorite?"

Blaine had began to ask questions while leaning back against the headboard of his bed with his knees drawn up and his phone between his shoulder and his ear, but near the end of the conversation, he was lying on his floor with the phone lying in front of him with Mike's voice echoing from the speaker, his head resting on a pillow and his eyes fluttering to stay open and his mouth aching from laughing and smiling. Mike had just finished telling him the story of how he joined glee club, which involved a begging Noah Puckerman.

(_"He was on his knees! Matt and I were planning on joining anyway but it was hilarious to watch him be so desperate for once."_) It was odd for him to hear Mike talk so much, and even odder that Mike had bothered going into each detail about every question Blaine had asked him. Blaine listened and commentated with what he hoped were humorous remarks. But by the end, they both ended up laughing at everything which told Blaine that it was a lot later than it seemed.

"Are you tired, Blaine?"

"Mmmm I'm getting there," Blaine replied, his chin in his hands and his eyes closed.

"Your voice is drawing out like you are half asleep," Mike laughed before continuing. "I'll let you sleep now. You can ask me questions later today?"

"Later today?" Blaine blinked slowly and peered over his phone to see what time it was.

"It's nearly five in the morning."

"Wait! When do-did you start dancing?" Blaine asked desperately. He knew he could always ask more questions later, but this one suddenly felt urgent and important.

Mike laughed again, his laugh cracking slightly. He sounded as tired as Blaine felt. Blaine was about to stop Mike from answering his question, but Mike was already telling the story of a fourteen year old Asian boy being forced to take a dancing class in a tired but cheerful voice. Blaine listened with a set smile on his face, his eyes closed and his hands weak underneath his chin. He set them down and then rested his head on the pillow beneath it.

"I actually liked it a lot, but I would lie to my mom about it so I could stay in the class. It was supposed to be a punishment because I mocked a street dancer we saw on the street a few weeks before. My mom really appreciates the arts, and she didn't take it kindly. I've really wanted to dance before that as well, but I was always too shy to talk about it with my parents or friends. I think I insulted that dancer because I was jealous that he could be so open about his passion…"

Mike's speaking was starting to get fuzzy. His voice was so calm now as he talked about making up little dance moves, and how his teacher had wanted to upgrade him to a higher class because he had picked up on it so well, and how Mike had refused that offer, too afraid of what people would say. Blaine meant to make comments, but he was so mentally cradled by Mike's words and the only thing he could manage to do was reach over, grab his phone and put it next to his ear as he drifted off to sleep.

()

When Blaine awoke later that day he had three new text messages.

**-When you sleep you snore a little bit, in a cute kind of way.-**

Blaine groaned and turned over on the floor. He put hands over his face and felt the heat of his embarrassment warming his fingers. He groaned again and sat up. He sat on the floor, basking in his misery when a subtle smile came to his lips. He felt a twinge of happiness at the fact that Mike had bothered to tease him. From what he knew about Mike, teasing was something Mike did with his friends often.

Blaine felt his chest heat up like his face, but this time out of warmth of friendship. Maybe this time it would be real and not just something Blaine thought was going to happen. He looked back down at his phone and grinned. He locked the message into his phone so it wouldn't be deleted and checked the other two messages.

**-You, me, and Wes are going to hang out tonight. I should have told you earlier because Wes has been planning this since your break up but I was distracted.-**

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed and he chewed on his bottom lip as he read the message. It was unlike Wes to leave David in charge of the informing and guiding. _Maybe he is finally starting to trust someone else since that disastrous mix up during our being of year concert. _Blaine shrugged and checked his next message.

**-Did David tell you that we are hanging around each other today? I bet he didn't. We'll be by to pick you up at 3:00 in the afternoon. -Wes-**

Blaine looked up at the clock and jumped to see that it was almost one in the afternoon. He scrambled off the floor and went to get ready for his day.

He started to skip a little as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom. He could feel the after effects of constant smiling burning his cheeks and couldn't find himself bothered about it. For once, nothing negative or doubtful was on his mind.

After a long and hot shower, Blaine's happy thoughts were starting to fade away as he remembered the entire reason as to why Mike called the night before. _And he is right, _Blaine thought as he ran a towel over his curls and pulled at his polo shirt that was sticking to his still slightly wet body. _Michael is right, I should talk to Kurt. _Blaine looked up at himself in the mirror and nodded firmly.

"I'll call him," he said to himself before leaving the bathroom. He returned quickly after that with a pale face and shaking fingers, his fears creeping up on him like a sudden bad dream. "After I brush my teeth," He said, as if he was making excuses to keep from admitting that he was terrified.

Blaine had set a record, he was sure that he was the only person in existence that managed to stand in front of a mirror with a tooth brush sticking out of his mouth for a little over thirty minutes. He felt nerves jumping around in his stomach as he finally spit out the remainder of minty toothpaste. His lips were dry and his teeth were sore from repetitive brushing.

His hair still wet and his eyes wide with awareness, Blaine walked down the hall, each step like a drum beat to his death. He really didn't want to call Kurt and yet somewhere in the back of his mind he was scolding himself for being so goddamn over-dramatic.

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt's voice expressed a warning. Warning Blaine that he shouldn't try anything stupid, that Blaine should give up and that Kurt just wanted to be friends. Blaine knew Kurt's voice all too well to not read anything else in those two words.

"Hi."_Hi, Kurt Hummel, the boy who broke my heart._

"Can I help you?"

"Uh…how are you?" _I should have had a speech or something prepared!_

"I'm great, Blaine. I just started casting for my summer musical and Lima has a lot more promising talent than I first predicted!" Kurt stopped and took an obvious breath of distress. "And how are you?"

"I'm good." Blaine lied as he sat down on his bed and habitually twisted his feet around, vaguely reminding him of sitting on the playground steps in elementary school and watching the kids around him laugh and joke around. "Listen, I wanted to thank you. Sam and Mike have been really awesome."

"What about Sam and Mike?"

"You know, you asked them to take care of me after…" Blaine paused and chewed on his bottom lip. "Anyway thank you, that was really great."

"What are you talking about? I haven't spoken to Sam or Mike in a month. Though I was considering calling Mike up to see if he could help with choreography, I still need to do that. Did you know that he helped me with my amazing performance of Le Jazz Hot?"

Blaine was blinking quickly, this friendly and chatty composure mixed with the happy realization that Sam and Mike had become his friends out of genuine care and not as a favor to Kurt, had made him slightly overwhelmed and confused.

"I didn't know that."

"He helped with most of it actually, I was going to give him full credit for doing the duet with me and let him be my main dance partner, but he refused because Tina already had a plan for them. Sam was supposed to do a duet with me, but I had to let the poor boy down. Solos just fit my taste better, I suppose. Wouldn't you agree? I know you love your solos."

"I wouldn't say I love solos. I like to perform and I like that the Warbler council considers me talented enough to take the lead but I wouldn't mind a duet or even a chorus part."

"I would like to see that happen, your voice really sticks out."

"I guess."

"Oh, I have someone on the other line, can I call you back?"

Blaine found himself rolling his eyes, annoyed by Kurt's blatant nonchalance.

"No, it's okay, I'm going out with Wes and David and I still have to do my hair. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, text me, bye!"

Blaine fell back onto his bed and sighed heavily. He was completely floored by Kurt's friendly behavior. He was treating Blaine like he treated Mercedes or Tina. Like a friend. _He is acting like we were never together. _He groaned and turned over, burying his face into his comforter. He reached over to grab his phone in planning on cancelling with Wes and David, but as his fingers wrapped around his phone, it started vibrating.

His heart felt like it was leaping in his chest as he pulled his phone near him.

**-Hey, are you busy tonight? After nine? Sam wants to hang out.- **

Surprisingly enough, though it wasn't from the person he originally wanted it to be from, the glow of Michael Chang's name on the flat screen of his phone made his chest go warm and his stomach bubble with giddiness. Of course, Blaine wouldn't admit to himself how happy it made him to see a simple text from Mike.

**-After nine? What's the plan? I'm hanging out with some of my Dalton friends in a little while, I don't know how long it is going to take but I can probably make it.-**

**-Movie party at my house, bring your Dalton friends? Some of ND is coming as well.-**

**-What about Kurt?-**

Blaine almost didn't send the text, not really wanting to bother Mike with his relationship troubles, but he decided to send it anyway. Mike took a while to respond, which worried Blaine, knowing that Mike was a texting ninja.

**-Depends on if you want him to be there or not.-**

** -What if he wants to go?-**

** -The way I see it, it's really up to you, Blaine. I like Kurt, but I'm not going to try and pretend that his appearance at my movie party is more important than yours.-**

A grin spread across Blaine's face and he felt a blush on his cheeks. With a sigh of happiness, he buried his face in his blankets once more and let out a chuckle.

**-I talked to Kurt today.-**

** -How did it go?-**

** -Alright, but the point is he told me that he didn't send you and Sam to help me.-**

** -He did?-**

** -Don't play dumb, Michael.-**

** -:)-**

_Fuck you, Michael. _Blaine thought to himself when he received Mike's text, and was about to send something similar to his thoughts, but moved on to the more important question.

**-Was it you or Sam?-**

** -Okay, now I am really confused.-**

** -You or Sam? Who decided that you two should take me on a bowling trip.-**

** -It was a mutual agreement.-**

** -Go on?-**

** -We were talking about how terrible it is to be dumped when we were told by Finn that Kurt just dumped you. And we both have been wanting to get to know you better anyway.-**

Blaine grinned and started kicking his legs against his bed before realizing how incredibly "teenage girl" it was.

-**I am grateful.-**

** -Show that you are grateful by showing up tonight?-**

** -Sure, Kurt or no Kurt. I'm coming!-**

()

Soon after his conversation with Mike, Blaine was heading down the stairs of his house and hurrying to get ready to go with his friends, wherever they were taking him. He hurried past the living room and heard an unfamiliar sound, the piano was being played. _Well, not played, more like absentmindedly hitting the keys._ He peered into the room and saw his father sitting at the piano with his hands hitting the keys as he hunched over and talked in a whisper on the phone.

Blaine held his breath as he listened.

"Sometimes I think he might…okay…okay…but he is around these two others all the time, I don't think—"

He could see some of his own nervous habits in his father, the running of fingers through hair, the thumb biting and the steady tapping of his foot against the floor. Eagerness was Joseph Anderson in that moment, and his son couldn't help but wonder why. Blaine bit his lip and took a step into the living room, figuring if he was going to be brave about Kurt he might as well have a civil conversation with his father.

"Dad?"

Mr. Anderson jerked up and looked around at his son. A fleeting and forced smile flashed across his lips and he held up a finger before muttering something to the person on the other end of the phone call and hanging up. "What is it, Blaine?"

"Hey," _Daddy, are you okay? You look close to tears._ "I'm going out. I'll probably be back really late tonight. Is that okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"Out with Wes and David and then the three of us are going to a movie at Mike's house."

"Mike is that Asian one?"

Blaine resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his dad was not conspicuous when showing favorites and though Mr. Anderson wasn't Asian at all he still felt like an Asian boy was just the kind of friend that Blaine needed.

_"Asian boys are smart, kind, and normal."_ His dad had said at dinner a week before after Blaine had told his mom about Mike and Sam visiting him at Six Flags.

_"Careful Joseph, you sound a bit racist."_

_ "Look at all of your nieces and nephews! All Asian, and all exceptionally normal!"_

Luckily, Blaine's bitterness and subconscious need to go against everything his father wished didn't stop him from being Mike's friend. Even more lucky was the fact that he didn't feel that he wanted to be Mike's friend to please his father, unlike the great Rachel Berry disaster. Before his dad had even mentioned his liking to the Asian ethnicity, Blaine knew he wanted Mike's friendship.

"Yes, Dad. Mike is the Asian boy."

"Okay, doors will be locked by eleven thirty."

"If I'm not home by then I'll just sleep in the tree house," Blaine said with a laugh. Mr. Anderson returned with a small, real smile.

Blaine breathed in and out with a beaming smile and then turned around to leave.

"Remember when we built that tree house, Blaine?"

He turned at the door way and his smile remained.

"Remember when I cried for hours because of a stupid splinter?"

"Yeah, I remember. You insisted that I should wheel you off to your tragic death."

"Always with the dramatics," Blaine said in a low and gruff voice, mocking his father slightly. They both laughed for a second before the awkwardness and naked truth about their now distant relationship sunk into the moment. "I'll see you later then, dad."

"Yeah later, Blaine."

_Can't you just call me your son for once? _

()

Blaine walked outside early, waiting for his friends to pull up. He had a jacket on, as the sky was threatening him with rain. He could smell the dirt and cement as if the rain had already fallen, and his chest returned with that warm comfort of nostalgia and anticipation, two opposites, one looking to the past and one waiting for the future, but both so similar.

The honk of Wes' car jerked him out of his thoughts though the feelings still remained in his chest and stomach, though they were dimmed slightly by the sudden jerk of reality. He walked quickly to the car and hopped into the backseat. He looked up and expected to see Wes and David and was surprised to see Thad in the passenger seat.

"Oh, hey Thad."

"I know, it's confusing," Wes said at once. "But David had a sudden emergency with his girlfriend and had to cancel and I have already reserved a table for three at Chopstix. I'm not going to waste a seat!"

Blaine held in a chuckle and looked to Thad. Not to his surprise but Thad looked too content to care that he was filler.

"Wait, did you say Chopstix? The Asian restaurant openly mocks Breadstix with its choice in name?"

"It's called living up to our culture, Blaine," Wes said with a scoff, he looked thoroughly miffed and Blaine guessed it was because the day he had been planning for a while was ruined by David's girlfriend. "You are just going to have to deal with it!"

"I'm not upset about it, I know someone who works there. I think they might be working right now!" Blaine said, a grin returning to his face as he thought of Mike Chang wearing the required uniform for the knock-off Asian restaurant.


	9. Captain of Distraction

"Why don't you text your friend and see if he is going to be there," Thad said, leaning back to look at Blaine with an expression of hope in his eyes. "Maybe he can get us good seats? Though I'm sure you could get us good seats, if you just turned on your classic charm for the waitresses."

"None of that tonight, I already told you that I have seats reserved," Blaine's mouth turned up in an amused smile as Wes gripped tighter onto the steering wheel, his anger flaring at the idea of his plans being messed with.

"Don't worry about it, Wes." Blaine said cheerfully, reaching forward to pat Wes on the back before pulling out his phone to send a text to Mike.

**-Are you still at work? My friends and I are going to be there! I hope you're still there because I really want to see you now that we are actual friends and all.-** Blaine had almost sent the text like that, but decided that it sounded a little too—_Girly? Clingy? Desperate? _He already felt like an idiot for assuming that Mike was going to ask him out the night before, and putting actual evidence forward that he thought about Mike that way would make him feel the self-brandishing sting that came with a crush on a straight guy. Blaine chose instead to send only the **–Are you still at work?-** part of his text.

He waited the entire ride there with his phone in his hand, but Mike did not respond. Though it disappointed him, he decided that it was probably because Mike was busy. _Hopefully he is busy at work._

When they entered the restaurant, Blaine was surprised to see that it was nothing like he was expecting. In his mind, Chopstix was small and poorly funded, with a booming delivery service. He had seen the menu in Mike's car and a few empty food boxes. The menu looked like it was hand written and then sent through a copy machine, and the boxes looked as if they were movie theatre boxes that were too feeble to carry anything.

But the restaurant looked amazingly classy and authentic. The strong smell of spices and herbs overtook Blaine's senses as he stepped in further. His eyes scanned the room for Mike, but the dim light coming from the red Chinese lanterns above them was not strong enough for him to see much. He breathed in the scent and taste of the air and was briefly reminded of his grandma and when she would tell him stories of Asian cultures. Though his family was not Chinese, they still felt that the connection with other Asian cultures was important, and so Blaine did feel a sense of connection with his surroundings.

An eager-looking female server walked fast toward the three boys, pushing another server out of the way who also looked intent on assisting them.

Thad nudged Blaine and raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Wes was too fast and was already stepping forward to claim head of the group, much to Blaine's relief.

Blaine, who was normally glad to accept admiration from his fellow Warblers, found Thad's eagerness for him to flaunt his fake charm disconcerting. Something about Blaine turning on his smile and winks for the benefit and approval it got from his friends was settling wrong in him, making him feel awkward and out of place. _And kind of like a douchebag. _Blaine knew that he wasn't that person, and his friends knew he wasn't, but it was still becoming more apparent to him how incredibly seedy it was to flirt with girls to get ahead.

He thought about this as the girl lead them to their booth. He considered the times he had charmed girls to get what he wanted or to just play around and impress his friends. He knew he was attractive, and it wasn't because of time he spent in front of the mirror, it was the way that girls, and the occasional boy, looked at him. Much like the way the waitress was eyeing him at that very moment as he sat down. He could only manage to smile weakly at her.

All of these revelations he was having lately were exhausting to him. Everything he did and said made him think about whom he was and where he was going and how he could change himself for the better. He supposed all of this introspective thought was because of his abrupt break up with Kurt Hummel and in the back of his mind, he was grateful. He wouldn't admit to himself that there were benefits to having split up with Kurt; he was far too determined to be miserable about the ordeal. _Always with the dramatics._

Perhaps his yearning to change wasn't because of Kurt at all. Perhaps it was because of the time that he had spent with Michael and Sam, two people who were carefree and full of laughs, that Blaine now found it awkward to be in the presence of people so uptight and full of overdone admiration for him.

When he first started at Dalton, he wanted so badly to fit in and to be considered normal for once.

He worked there so well because he only showed them a part of whom he was. Of course there was the no-bullying policy, but he still feared the weird looks and stares. At first, he felt he was lucky when word of his sexuality was spread and the judgmental stares never came, but as he made friends and grew to know the people around him, he found their lack of distain for his sexuality was not because of the no-bullying policy, but because they just didn't mind it at all.

He could never fully be himself around them still, he still felt like everything was a little too closed off with the Warblers now that he knew what it was like to have Mike and Sam as friends. He remembered the time when he thought he could be purely himself around Kurt and wondered what had happened to that, at what had happened to the friendliness. _Oh right, I got into a relationship with him. _

His thoughts were now drifting off to Kurt and when he had first arrived, gay and proud, wearing socks against the dress code and keeping his hair excessively high. It discomforted Blaine at the time because he didn't want Kurt to be someone that their fellow classmates stared at. He realized now that not everyone was out to get him or find out, he thought that he played the right part to get on top of the Dalton food chain when really it was because they genuinely liked him. Kurt had shown him that by being a star all by himself, showing the world just how spectacular he was with a flick of his hair.

He remembered when Kurt had said that he looked up to Blaine and scoffed a little. That was foolish on Kurt's part. Blaine knew he could play the part of a kid that was put together and sure of himself, but he wasn't. He was quite the opposite. He wasn't role model material. Kurt was a role model, a strong and independent person who didn't need Blaine to help him shine. Kurt could bring more passion in front of a crowd without needing to flaunt or fake himself. Blaine brought some of his own passion for music while he performed as well and it steadily made him the lead singing Warbler. _But_ _Kurt could have had that if I hadn't have poisoned the group with my own flamboyancy. He could have been so much more. _Blaine mentally kicked himself; he was always doing that, always ruining things for other people.

Blaine looked up at his friends. Wes was studying the menu with his eyes focused, scanning each item as his decision was going to be life changing in some way. Thad, on the other hand, was staring at Blaine with a wide and cheerful grin on his face.

He returned the smile before picking up his menu and scanning it, his mind going to someone else entirely. He looked up at the waitress who was talking to Wes and spoke up.

"Excuse me, is Michael working tonight?"

The waitress blushed and smiled a little bit. "Michael?"

"Michae—Mike Chang?"

The girl's blush deepened and she looked shyly down at her notepad. "He's doing dishes right now. He'll be off his shift in a few minutes."

"Great!" Blaine said, slapping his hand down on the table and leaning forward to face the girl. "Could you do me a favor and tell Mike that a friend is here to visit him and that he should come out and join me when he is done?"

"Who should I say is asking for him?"

"Blaine."

"Blaine Anderson?"

His nose scrunched up in confusion as the waitress nodded her head and a knowing smile crossed her lips.

"Uh… yeah, that is me. Excuse me but do I know you?"

"Oh no, you don't know me… unless," she held her note pad and looked at Blaine expectantly, "Mike has said something about me?"

Blaine looked over her name tag and shook his head. "I'm sorry no; he hasn't mentioned a girl named Katherine. But don't worry; he never talks about his work."

The girl only shrugged in response as if she wasn't surprised by this.

"I'll tell him you're here."

Thad waited for the girl to leave before leaning forward and whispering loudly. "He talked about you?"

Blaine shrugged and swallowed back a sort of nervous squeak. The very idea of being talked about by someone like Mike shocked him and he didn't know exactly how he felt about it.

"Thad, he just barely broke up with Kurt."

"I didn't just break up with Kurt, that was a month ago," Blaine felt a blush burning slowly up his neck. "And besides, Michael and I don't have that kind of relationship, we're just friends. In fact, he invited me to sort of a party tonight." _Show that you are grateful by showing up tonight?_ "And I am going tonight, he invited you two as well."

Wes dropped his menu to glare at Blaine while Thad's smile grew and he fell back in his seat. "That sounds awesome! Are there going to be girls there?"

"I am not prepared to go to a party, Blaine. I told my parents-"

"Call them and tell them you are going to a gathering. Michael _is_ Asian you know. Don't your parents like you to be involved with the Asian community?"

Wes glared again and began folding his menu. "My parents and I can disagree on some things."

_Well, at least you and your parents agree on some things. Sadly it's less than some on my part. _Blaine thought as Thad pleaded with Wes.

"You said we should eat here because of our culture!" Blaine said after his lapse of thought. "And Mike will be the only Asian there anyway!"

"Seriously? None of his Asian friends will be there?" Wes asked hesitantly. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side.

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't."

"Then come. I'm going with or without you."

"How will you get there? I drove you here."

"I'll take my own car when you drop me off at home."

"Or I could just give you a ride?"

Blaine felt his entire body jump in surprise as he recognized Mike's voice speaking behind him. He found himself slightly afraid to turn and look at the boy, it being the first time they had seen each other face-to-face after the long talk between them the night before.

"You look terrible," Blaine said when he managed to turn and look up at him. Mike looked as if he hadn't slept in days, his dark eyes oddly sunken in yet still sparkling with their usual happiness. His hair was unkempt and his mouth chapped and dry. "I'm sorry." Blaine moved over in his seat and gestured for Mike to sit next to him.

Mike shrugged and yawned a little before plopping down next to Blaine, his smile fading to a simpler one. "It's okay; I like your blunt honesty. It's one of my favorite things about you."

Blaine felt heat rise in his cheeks for what felt like the millionth time that day and he muttered quietly as he ducked his head down to look at his hand. "Uh… I mean I'm sorry that you are tired. It's really all my fault because of last night?" He dared to look up at Mike again, hoping to see their new friendship apparent in Mike's expression.

Mike didn't let him down at all. In response, the corners of his lips twitched up as he returned the stare. He opened his mouth to respond but a voice interrupted their potential conversation.

"Last night? What happened last night?"

Blaine didn't think that anything would make his blush deepen anymore when he realized that Thad and Wes were still sitting across the table, now both eyeing the sleepy Mike with skeptical stares.

"Oh sorry!" Blaine said quickly. "Thad and Wes, this is Michael Chang."

Mike reached his hand forward and Wes was the first to take it, his eyes squinting and examining Mike.

"I know you, I've seen you before."

"I'm that kid that dances for New Directions. You probably recognize me from sectionals and regionals," Mike replied, his smile still apparent and unyielding even though Wes was observing him with an even more speculating look.

"Oh, you danced with that hot blonde," Thad laughed and nudged Wes, "She asked Blaine if he wanted to make out after we tied!"

Mike let out a loud laugh and hit the table with his hand before looking at Blaine with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. In response, Blaine sunk down in his seat, thoroughly embarrassed and paying too much attention to the edge of his pants sliding lightly against Michael's black slacks.

"That is Brittany for you!" He replied, still laughing with great amusement. "It's a good thing you didn't make out with her; I don't think you would have enjoyed it." He clapped a red-faced Blaine on the shoulder. "She's a great kisser and all, but I don't think she fits your type."

"And why is that—wait, how do you know?"

"She was my first kiss," now it was Mike's turn to blush. "Well, she was my first kiss on the lips. It meant nothing really because she was just trying to achieve her goal of kissing every guy in the school," Michael shrugged while he picked up Blaine's set of unused chopsticks and slowly began to separate them.

"She should move that record onto the Warblers," Thad said with a cheesy wink, causing Wes to nudge him and mutter that he was trying too hard. Thad nodded in response and kept an enthusiastic smile plastered on his face.

Blaine was unnerved by this information perhaps because he respected Michael or perhaps it was a deep and hidden jealousy of the beautiful blonde girl. "Honestly," he said quietly, "I think first kisses are too important to give away to someone who just wants a kiss."

"Agreed!" Thad said, slamming his fist down onto the table as if he was making Blaine's words official.

Mike shifted as if he was uncomfortable and all of Blaine's focus was suddenly on the distance between their legs again. He could feel the tension on his part. It felt like his leg was the only thing alive on his entire body, the only part of his body capable of touch and feel and friction. He imagined it was what it felt like to be a very weak magnet, still being able to resist contact at such a close distance but unable to pull away at the same time.

He kept his eyes on the table as Mike spoke again, drawing some of Blaine's attention away from his rush of thoughts all linking to the doom of having a possible rebound crush on a straight guy.

"Well if it makes you feel any better," Mike said with a yawn. "The first time _I_ kissed someone it was very important… to me, at least."

"Wait, you just said that Brittany was your first kiss!" Blaine stated with a smirk. He leaned forward on his hands and looked up at Mike, his smile growing. "Are you lying to make yourself seem cool?"

Mike laughed again and returned Blaine's stare with an equally challenging smile. Though he looked like sleep was not his friend, there was still a trace of alert amusement in his dark eyes. His smile, though it was weak, was real and teasing.

"Well," Mike said while he looked away, "I did say that she was my first kiss on the lips. The first time I kissed someone, it wasn't on the lips and I was too fast for them." Mike's smile brightened and he leaned back in his seat, reaching a hand up to scratch at his chin as he seemed to be revisiting the past.

If Blaine hadn't had been used to Mike's style in clothing, he would have been struck by how good Michael looked in his uniform. The red vest was tight around his chest and the black dress shirt underneath was equally tight around his arms. Mike had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows again and Blaine thought that it helped accentuate the shirt around his strong arms. _Of course he has nice arms; he is a football player and a dancer. I wonder what other activities he does._

When he had first imagined Mike in his Chopstix uniform, he pictured a cheesy striped uniform with a comical hat. Instead, Blaine had decided that the uniform was professional and classy and absolutely perfect for Mike. Of course all he had known about Chopstix before was that it was that it was the only Chinese food delivery place in Lima. He supposed it was because of this fact that he assumed Mike would have a hat with a chicken or Chinese take-out carton on it. His eyes made their way up to Mike's neck and observed the lovely shape of his Adam's apple. _He has a really nice neck, _Blaine thought to himself. _Is that weird? To think someone has a nice neck—_

"Oof!" Blaine's body lurched forward onto the table when someone kicked his leg under the table. He looked up to see that Wes had his hand over his mouth and he was shaking his head as if telling his child not to blow bubbles in his chocolate milk. Blaine brought both of his lips into his mouth in an innocent kind of smile. Wes shook his head and Blaine looked down at the chopsticks that Mike was now hitting against the table in a steady beat while Thad asked him questions about Brittany.

"So it was a ninja kiss?" Blaine asked suddenly, relating back to Mike's first kiss.

Mike was speaking to Thad about Brittany's habit of blaming everything on her cat but he immediately stopped and looked at Blaine. He didn't seem offended by the interruption or even slightly annoyed, he looked almost joyful that Blaine had spoken up.

"That," Mike put his hand on Blaine's shoulder, "Is totally racist." Mike grinned and pushed Blaine lightly against the wall of the booth.

Blaine liked this. He liked that Mike was treating him so friendly, teasing him and pushing him around like they had always been that way. _It should always be this way. _Blaine grinned and pushed Mike back.

When their meal came, it was by the same blushing waitress, this time looking even more intrigued as she handed each of them their food. ("_Did you want some, Mike?"_ "_Nah, I already ate, plus I'm saving room for popcorn.")_ Blaine had tried to be focused on his food, but it was hard with Mike sitting next to him and talking to Thad and Wes. Instead, he found himself slurping noodles and casting long stares at Mike while he wasn't looking. These feelings of attraction to Michael weren't exactly new to him, but on this night it felt oddly fresh. He chalked it up to their conversation the night before. The communication barrier between them was also keeping him from admitting to himself how drawn he was to Mike in a more than friendly way.

The four of them walked out to restaurant and Mike turned, still smiling happily. "Are you two coming? Or am I driving Blaine around tonight?"

Wes and Thad exchanged a look before looking at Blaine. Wanting his Dalton friends to hang around his new friends, Blaine urged them to join by flashing his charming smile and nodding his head. In the end they nodded with him, Wes looking much more hesitant than Thad.

"Though, I would like to ride with you anyway, if that is okay?" Blaine asked, keeping his smile on and hoping that it would also convince Mike. Fortunately Mike didn't need convincing and was already guiding Blaine toward his car with a hand on his shoulder.

"Just follow my car," Mike called back to Thad and Wes without turning to look at them.

Blaine turned his head and felt his ears starting to burn from embarrassment, the two friends were now muttering to each other and watching Mike and him walking toward Mike's car, that and the light grip that was still on his shoulder. Mike's fingers were long and rough, while the palm of his hand was warm against Blaine's back. Blaine's mind instantly jumped to listing all of the things those fingers could do… to him.

He gulped and was half grateful that Mike had lowered his hand to unlock the door. He was on his way to the passenger side of the car, but was cut off by Mike who rushed to his door and opened it for him.

"Uh… thank you," Blaine responded before sliding into his seat and staring up at Mike who was still holding the door open and looking just as confused as Blaine felt.

"I'm sorry, I guess it's a habit," he said quietly before shutting the door.

"I've never seen you open doors for Sam," Blaine replied.

Mike laughed as he started his car, his long and elegant fingers attracting Blaine's gaze again as he gripped the steering wheel. He was moving his hands around the rubber with a sort of nervous and yet adorable twitching.

"Tina and I used to eat here all the time. I guess I'm just used to opening doors for her here."

Blaine shrugged in response and pulled on his seatbelt, mainly to distract himself. He looked back over at Mike just as he was turning his head to look behind the car as he backed out. The beautiful structure of his neck sent of sort of yearning through Blaine's stomach, and he had to force himself to look down at his own feet. It was long before he was staring again, this time Mike's lips were drawing his attention as they were pressed together in concentration. Blaine's eyes widened slightly as Mike licked his lips out of habit. When they were fully pulled out of the parking lot, Mike's eyes met his and he raised an eyebrow, as if curious on why Blaine was staring at him.

"You know," Blaine said loudly, pulling his eyes away from Mike and swallowing hard again. "Tina was a very lucky girl to have you doing that for her. There aren't many men chivalrous enough to do that, myself included."

"She hated it at first. She thought I only did it because she was a girl."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because," Mike let out a short sigh. "I cared about her."

"Don't you care about Sam?"

"Of course I do!" Mike said with volume, his hands hitting against the wheel with a determined pound. His smile remained and so Blaine was assured that Mike had not taken him seriously. "I just don't care about him in a romantic way."

In the back of his mind he couldn't help thinking about how nice it would be if Mike started opening doors for him on a regular basis. A small, secretive smile came to his lips, but quickly disappeared when Mike spoke again, his voice more serious this time.

"Kurt is going to be there."

"It's a trap!" Blaine called out dramatically. He threw his face against the passenger window and pressed up against the glass, as obvious fake sobs sounded from the back of his throat. After his brief episode, his face relaxed into a smile. "That is okay, Michael. I'm not saying everything will be cheery and bright and I'll walk through the fields of friendship with him, but I'm not afraid. I'll have my friends there."

Contrary to his words Blaine _did_ feel afraid as they got nearer to Mike's house. He felt his emotions rising as the house came into view and he could see Kurt's car parked in front with a few other cars that he didn't recognize. He ran his hands over his shirt and then put a hand on top of his head to make sure his hair was still in shape.

"You look great, Blaine." Mike said in an amused tone, but still hinting a bit of sympathy as he put his car into park. He looked up at Blaine with his mouth drawn up to one side, the smile reassuring and yet teasing.

"Well, if I stand next to you I think I'll look pretty good."

Mike sent a light punch in Blaine's direction and got out of his side of the car. Blaine, half tempted to wait for Mike to open his door as well, got out slowly, every step seeming slow and definite as if he was walking to his death. He was still checking every inch of himself, not wanting to make a bad "I'm-seeing-you-for-the-first-time-since-we-broke-up" impression.

He could feel Mike's eyes on him and instantly put his hands down, biting nervously on his lower lip. Mike only laughed in response and jerked his head toward the front of the house, gesturing for Blaine to follow him with a wave of his hand.

Determined to show Kurt just how unaffected and carefree he was, he caught up with Mike and nudged him before muttering a request for Mike to say something funny.

"Say something funny?" Mike said after turning to look at him.

"Yes, I need to be laughing when I enter the house."

Mike raised an eyebrow and then turned back to the door, ignoring Blaine's request. Still desperate, Blaine pulled Mike back with all the strength he could and turned him so they were face to face.

"Say something funny right now, Michael Chang!"

Mike stared back at him, his expression was stoic but Blaine could see his lips shaking as if to stop himself from smiling. Blaine didn't realize that he was gripping onto both of Mike's shoulders like he was trying to hold on for life until Mike's eyes flicked to one of his hands. He quickly let go and stepped back. _Mike Chang, king of distractions. Distraction Man! He should have a cape! _Blaine thought to himself as he blushed and looked down at his feet, mumbling an apology.

"Sorry for what?" Mike asked, his smile returning.

"Making you uncomfortable," Blaine replied, his voice still in a mumble. He looked up when Mike didn't respond right away only to look when Mike took a breath, getting ready to speak.

"There you are!" Thad called out from behind them and Blaine spun around, his face still hot with embarrassment. "Wes took forever because he wanted to park in a good parking spot!"

"I don't know this place," Wes grumbled as he walked behind Thad, his face set in a frown. "There could be car thieves here!"

Blaine glanced at Mike apologetically for Wes' subtle accusation, but Mike, the king of distraction, seemed distracted himself. _A__nd who can blame him? I pretty much dragged him out of his heterosexual comfort bubble. _

"I left my phone in the car," Thad declared loudly, searching his pockets for his phone. Wes rolled his eyes and muttered about entering the party later while he and Thad went back to his car to get his phone.

Blaine had completely forgotten about Kurt until the two of them entered Mike's house and Kurt was sitting in the living room, his amazing legs crossed toward Tina as he chatted away, a friendly smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling with their usual vibrancy.

For a moment Blaine expected his stomach to churn with lovesick nausea or his legs to buckle with dramatic swooning, but none of that came. Instead Blaine felt a sort of sadness that faded to a distant emotion. He almost felt an urge to shrug about it.

Kurt looked up at Blaine just as he was about to turn away and raised his hand in greeting, a wary smile on his face as his fingers curled in a half-hearted wave. Blaine returned the wave, it was quick and low and he was sure that Kurt didn't even see it. It was in that moment, Blaine knew that they had no hope of getting back together and it stung him a little to have that hope die so quickly.

He blinked and stepped into the living room, wiping his hands on his pants, even though they weren't dirty or sweaty, and sunk low into the couch farthest from Kurt and Tina.

"Hey guys," Mike said as he followed Blaine in and sat down next to him. "Where is everyone else?"

"Mikey!" There came a loud shout from the hallway. Two kids ran into the living room both bounding toward Mike and dressed in their pajamas. Mike let out an exaggerated moan and opened his arms up for them to run into, while Blaine quickly scooted over on the couch and watched as the children embraced him.

"They should be in bed," Mike explained as his head popped out from underneath their arms, his face set in a grin.

"Stacy, Stevie," Blaine recognized Sam's voice coming around the corner. "Bed… now."

"Can't we watch the movie?"

"I would let you," Mike said, standing up with the children still clinging on to him. "But it's a really scary movie."

"I'm not scared."

"Of course you wouldn't be, Stevie. But if I watch it with you then I'll end up squeezing you too tight out of fear and then where would we be," Mike dragged both of the kids toward the hall, they were now gripping onto his legs and Sam was trying to pry them away. "I got it Sam, take a break."

"Says the guy who just got off work," Sam looked exasperated as Mike rounded the corner into the hallway, the boy now crawling up his back while the girl hugged both of his legs.

"Is that your brother and sister then?" Blaine asked, turning his head so Kurt was no longer in his view.

"Yeah, that's them!" Sam said with a proud smirk. He turned his head to see if Mike had achieved his goal of getting them back to the basement.

It was common knowledge that the Evans family had moved into the Chang residence, but to see it with his own eyes was oddly heartwarming for Blaine. To see Mike treating Sam's siblings like his own made Blaine's smile grow wide.

"That boy," Sam said, taking a seat next to Blaine, "Is crazy. First he gets no sleep and then he insists on doing this stupid movie party."

"He said it was your plan."

"Oh… yeah. I mean I told him we should cancel but he insisted. Didn't want to ruin a movie party for his sake," Sam chuckled awkwardly and brought a hand to the back of his head, scratching it slightly.

"He did get _some_ sleep didn't he?"

"No, he was just hanging up the phone when our alarm went off."

Blaine stared forward, feeling guilty for keeping Michael up so late, suspicious at Sam's aloof behavior, and a bit sad from still being able to hear Kurt chatting away with Tina.

"_Our_ alarm?"

"Mike and I share a room; it makes the basement roomier for the rest of my family."

Blaine added jealousy to the list of things he was feeling. How close were Sam and Mike really? He knew that they were like brothers, but maybe he read into their relationship wrong. _Or maybe I think too much about homosexuality that I can't see a friendship as just a friendship. That is probably it, Blaine._

"Hey! Where is the party?" A loud voice shouted from the doorway followed by a soft laugh.

Sam jumped up and ran to the doorway. "Not so loud, Puck. Mike is putting the kids to bed."

There were a few more laughs and Blaine blinked in surprise as Santana, Brittany, Puck, and Lauren walked into the house, all looking at Sam with judgmental stares. (Blaine later learned that Artie, Mercedes and Quinn couldn't make it because Artie found himself busied by his new love interest that he met at math camp, while Quinn hadn't really been in touch with any of them for the last month. Mercedes had been secretive about her reasons for not showing up.)

"Okay, Mrs. Chang," Puck said, scanning Sam as if he was seeing him in a new light.

"Fuck you, Puck," Sam smiled, obviously amused and unaffected as he pushed Puck on the arm, causing the latter to stumble a little bit while he laughed at his own joke.

Blaine watched as Kurt and Tina walked over to the group, with Kurt hugging Santana and Brittany at the same time, while Tina shook her head and scolded Puck with an amused smile on her face as well. Blaine sunk lower in his seat and wished that Mike was there or that Sam would come and sit down next to him again. He would take feeling jealous over feeling left out any day.

Lucky for him, Thad and Wes arrived and slid past the group of friends to sit by him. He felt relieved at their company until he saw Wes have an obvious double take when his eyes scanned over Tina.

"Who is that girl?" Wes asked. His eyes squinted in a speculating stare yet again.

"Um…"

"Oh… no."

"Grow up, Wes!" Blaine said as Wes stood up to leave. He regretted saying his name instantly as Tina flipped her head around and she met Wes' stare. Blaine felt caught in between deep and powerful tension as they both scanned each other in recognition and distaste. He swallowed and tugged at Wes' arm so he was back sitting down.

He looked over to see that Thad wasn't paying attention to the situation at hand; he was too busy staring at Brittany. Blaine looked up at the ceiling with annoyance, now wishing that Mike was there.

Mike appeared during another shared glare between Wes and Tina, and much to Blaine's surprise, he seemed to notice it unlike everyone else. Mike made a face and then smiled at Blaine before taking his seat on the other side of the couch, crossing one leg over the other and yawning. Blaine pouted instantly; momentarily angry with Thad and Wes for sitting on either side of him, but Mike caught his pout and smiled, patting the empty seat next to him.

Blaine scrambled to his feet and walked over to the seat next to Mike, neither Thad nor Wes taking notice of his leave. He grinned as he sat down next to Mike, who was now smacking his lips together and rubbing his stomach, the effects of no sleep showing even more in that moment.

He didn't realize how close he was sitting next to Mike until Mike uncrossed his legs, his leg now up against Blaine's, with not an inch of space between their legs. Blaine, knowing that this might be uncomfortable for Mike, went to scoot over but was surprised by Sam sitting on the other side of him.

"We gotta squish in, Blaine. A lot of people and not all of us are going to fit on the small couch." Sam stated, nodding his head.

"And I'm pretty sure Lauren is going to be HBIC and claim the recliner," Mike whispered, sending shivers up Blaine's back. "Movie is in guys, lights out because it's a scary one!" The rest of the group laughed at Mike's perfectly serious tone and started moving toward their seat of choice. (Sure enough, Lauren took the recliner, with Puck taking a seat on the floor in front of her so she could play with his mohawk.)

Brittany, taking a seat next to Sam, was surprised to be accompanied by Thad (earning a death glare from Santana, who was sitting on the smaller couch next to Kurt.) Blaine looked by Thad to see that Wes had scooted over to sit by him, still looking extremely uncomfortable and annoyed.

When everyone was seated and the movie was starting, Tina walked into the room; Blaine assumed that she had just went to the bathroom. Much to his amusement and distress, the only seat open was the one next to Wes, who looked like someone had taken his Warblers councilman's gavel.

Tina huffed proudly and took the seat next to him, folding her arms and glaring at the TV screen.

Blaine could only pay attention to this for a few seconds longer because Mike had just shifted his legs again as he leaned back against the couch. Blaine could feel the side of his leg burning from the heat between the two of them and his eyes kept flicking down to the unmoving contact. Every time that Mike moved a little, Blaine felt a little bit more embarrassed; and when Mike rested his hand on his own knee and scratched an itch on it, Blaine nearly reached his own hand over to help with the itch, his eyes widening at the thought.

His entire focus was on the precious contact between their two legs that he didn't even realize that someone had just been murdered in the movie that he was supposed to be watching. The screams and gasps of the other people around him were distant. Even though his eyes were glued to the TV, he could only see Mike's long and beautiful fingers resting on the edge of his knee at the corner of his eye. Blaine silently wished that Mike would move his hand over slightly so his fingers could be on Blaine's leg instead.

He felt Mike move his head and determinedly stared forward even though he was dying of curiosity as Mike seemed to be intrigued in something other than the movie as well.

Blaine held back a shudder when Mike whispered in his ear. "Sexual tension you could cut with a knife."

"Wh-what?" Blaine spluttered and finally turned toward Mike, their faces not far from each other.

Mike was looking past Blaine and nodded his head, gesturing for Blaine to turn and look. Blaine found what Mike was talking about instantly and he felt a small smile come to his face as he noticed that Wes and Tina were both staring at the TV with their arms folded. Wes' chest was lifting up and down with heavy and annoyed breaths while Tina kept rolling her eyes and sneering, but they were sitting so close to each other that Tina's leg was slightly overlapping Wes'. The thing that was amusing about this was that Tina and Wes both had extra space on each side of them. They hated each other because of a childish squabble and yet, they were sitting together like two strong magnets.

"Nothing like hate and chemistry right?" Blaine replied after he had gotten a good glance at the pair.

"Thin line between love and hate."

They both chuckled, Blaine a little bit more awkwardly than Mike. _Thank god he is so oblivious! _

A little bit more into the movie, Blaine found that his partner in chemistry gossip was fast asleep and leaning lightly against him. Blaine swallowed hard again and pushed Mike off him and against the back of his couch. He couldn't resist the urge to watch as Mike smiled in his sleep, his chest moving with even breaths and his hands resting lazily in his lap. It was an adorable sight to Blaine and he felt his chest grow warm because of it.

He would have stared a little while longer but something had finally distracted him from Mike Chang, Distraction Man.

It was the bluish glow of a cell phone and low and whispering voices that drew his attention from the sleeping Mike. Kurt's head was bent next to Santana and the two of them were whispering in seemingly serious tones as they looked at Kurt's phone screen.

Blaine looked away from them, determined not to think too much of it, but every now and then Kurt's cell phone would be open again and Santana and Kurt would whisper in low tones again, and the curious child inside of him was eager to know what they were being so secretive about. In all of his acquaintance with Kurt Hummel, Blaine had never seen Kurt be this secretive and it irked him.

The rest of the movie was a mixture of this suspicion and an eternal debate about how he felt about the man sleeping next to him. A part of him wanted to like Mike as a romantic interest while another part of him just wanted to be best friends with him. It was like reading a terribly written a romance novel with an overdone plotline in first person.

To him, it was picking between the happiness of being miserable in unrequited feelings or the happiness of having someone to talk to without expectation or need to impress and seduce. Though the first option sounded deliciously dramatic and right up Blaine's alley of expertise, the second one calmed him a little but left him with a sort of empty feeling.

He came to a conclusion as he borrowed a marker from Sam and wrote the words "When you sleep you snore a little bit, in a cute kind of way" across Mike's arm. He decided that he was going to be friends with Mike Chang. If the sexual attraction stuck around he wouldn't mind one bit. He had been physically attracted to a straight guy before and the only thing he needed to do to satisfy it was add the face to fantasies and imagination, and Mike's face was so significant and stunning to him that Blaine was sure every detail could always be available in his mind when it was needed.

Besides, he felt that this attraction to Mike Chang was purely because of the rebound symptom that occurred with most people post-break up.

_Just a rebound crush, Blaine. Nothing to really worry about, _Blaine thought as he put the cap on the borrowed marker and set it down next to his leg before blowing lightly on Michael's limp arm so the marker would dry faster.

He peered down and noticed that a piece of white paper was sticking out of the pocket of Mike's work pants. Not thinking twice about it, Blaine tucked the paper further into the pocket, too amused by his own words written on Mike's arm to realize how familiar the texture of the white construction paper was. How amazing it would have been had he only realized that he had just tucked a well hidden secret of Mike Chang's further into secrecy without a second glance.


	10. Oblivious Boys

"Can I kiss you?" Sunshine asked, stepping closer to his friend. The response was a laugh and a scoff much to his disappointment.

"No," the boy finally said with a small and teasing smile.

Sunshine pouted and followed as Moonbeam ran ahead, his curls bouncing with surreal enthusiasm. He squinted his eyes and tried to keep an eye on his friend, but as the they ran deeper into the forest the light started to disappear, leaving him only glints of light flashing sporadically over Moonbeam's mess of hair that he loved so much.

"Come back," he called as his legs started to slow. He felt as if his feet were stuck under thick mud, each movement painfully slow and aggravating while Moonbeam laughed and played around, steadily getting further away. "Why are you running so fast?" He breathed out, his voice unable to go louder than a whisper.

He thought it was luck when Moonbeam finally stopped, and took the opportunity to scramble forward to meet him. It was only when he reached his friend did Sunshine realize that something was off. Moonbeam's eyes were glazed over, as if he were in some kind of trance. His face set in a huge and hopeful grin as he stared off to the right.

Sunshine followed his gaze and swallowed uncomfortably when he saw the entity that had captured his friend's full attention. An overwhelming fear stirred in the pit of his stomach as he stared at a boy with pale, porcelain skin and light brown hair, his light eyes staring back at Moonbeam, beckoning him with a simple, sly smile.

This was not how his dreams were supposed to go. They were supposed to be green and vibrant with bright light streaming through the open trees. As he tore his eyes away from the boy and looked around, he noticed that the trees were hiding them from the light entirely, as if they were all trapped under a blanket of dark green, with the smell of rotting wood intoxicating their senses and leaving them with little air. Or maybe it was just him feeling these strange things, maybe he was the only one that could feel the shift from dream to nightmare.

"Moonbeam?" Sunshine reached out to shake his friend out of his spell, wanting to run back into the lighted part of the woods with his best friend. The gesture was found to be pointless, however as Moonbeam only shrugged his hand off and stepped closer to the boy with the brunet hair and the beautiful, unblemished features. "Something is wrong, we have to run. What if it's the pirates? We aren't pirates today, remember?" His voice was getting quieter with each syllable, but he was trying to shout. He was trying to scream and tug his friend away from the danger but every effort was useless.

Finally, Blaine started to speak, his eyes still fixed on the beautiful boy. "He is so pretty," his hands went up robotically to his hair and he started flattening down the curls and smoothing them back while he walked slowly toward his destination.

Sunshine watched, desperately trying to think of a way to get his Moonbeam back. He looked to the boy and scrunched his nose up in distaste. He was fair, fragile, and stunning. Everything Sunshine wasn't. He couldn't help the surging jealously that arose in him as he looked back to Moonbeam, but it didn't stop him from making a final offer.

"He can come with us, Moonbeam. We can take him with us." He thought it was a good plan, but his friend did not acknowledge it or him for that matter.

The stranger perked up as Moonbeam got closer, a broad and confident smile spread across his perfectly shaped lips. He was portraying the kind of confidence that Sunshine could never have, causing the latter to shrink back even more, ashamed of trying to tear his friend away from such a person.

"I'm sorry," he said in a barely audible tone.

Blaine took his last few steps before taking hold of his new friend's hand, an equally confident smile on his face as their fingers threaded together and he was pulled further into the trees, leaving Mike to huddle in the darkness and watch the two of them start to skip away, the light returning to them but shrinking away from him.

Mike awoke with a sudden twitch, his eyes wide with surprise and his chest heaving with anxious breaths. As his dark living room came into focus and the forests in his dream faded from his mind, he felt his eyes start to sting with unexpected tears.

Determined not to get emotional about a dream, Mike rubbed his eyes harshly and blinked a few times, still trying to pull himself back into reality. The couch made a terribly annoying attempt to hold onto his now sweaty back, the leather clinging to his arms for a second as he pushed himself up and let the light breeze of the room cool him off. After a second of collecting his thoughts and cooling off, Mike stood up and stretched his arms. He rubbed his eyes roughly again and flashes of his dream came back to him from the pressure of his fingers over his eyelids, causing him to groan unpleasantly.

He stumbled out of the room and into the lit hallway, the light was annoying but he couldn't bring himself out of the irrational fear that if he closed his eyes again he would be brought back into his dreams.

His eyes found the nearest clock and he let out another groan of disappointment when he saw that it was only four o'clock in the morning. _I have to work in four hours. _He yawned and scratched the back of his head, his mind still drifting back to his dream and then back to his work place where Blaine had laughed and sat next to him. For once, reality was more pleasurable to look back on than dreams.

The wooden chairs in the kitchen had never seemed more welcoming than the sticky and hot leather couch he had just woken up on. The cold countertop was equally inviting and he didn't resist their calls for a second, his face pressing up against the marble while his arms stretched out in front of him.

He mentally prepared himself to sigh happily as if he were about to advertise the coolness of marble when the light flicked on and blinded him once more. He turned his head down and pressed his nose against the counter and covered his head with his hands.

"Hey Mikey!" A small and tired voice said. Mike only mumbled a response and took a peek at his new company as they sat down next to him. He looked up only when he heard the rustling of a wrapper.

"Midnight snack?"

"Graham crackers aren't a snack, they are the best food ever."

"The gods are offended. Give me one," before Stevie could reply, Mike grabbed a cracker out of the package and chuckled. "You might be onto something though," he mused aloud as he took a mouthful of the sweet cracker. The grainy substance tickled his tongue and the concentration it took chew steadily brought him out of his sleepy daze. "No, you weren't. Definitely not the best food ever." It wasn't a pleasant way to wake up. The cracker had turned into a thick paste on his tongue, making it feel more dry and rough. The taste reminded him of a trail of crackers down a leafy and grassy path and he flinched, the childish disappointment of being abandoned seeping back into his emotions for a second.

To distract himself he looked over at the boy and smiled, remembering when he first begged his parents to let Sam's family stay in their house until Mr. Evans could find a job.

His parents weren't the most lenient in Lima. In fact he would rate them as stereotypically Asian parents and considered it a chance of luck that they were in a good mood about his end-of-the-year grades (all A's) when he asked them to help the Evans family.

As he sent a hand through Stevie's hair to mess it up even more he felt a strange sense of pride in himself. If it hadn't have been for him his best friend and family would have been stuck in a single hotel room instead of a spacious basement with three rooms. Being an only child, Mike appreciated that he had Sam, Stacy, and Stevie to fulfill his unspoken longing for siblings.

"What's that?"

"What?"

"That writing on your arm."

He felt a surge of warmth and comfort cushion around him like a blanket as he looked down at his arm to see it marked with familiar words.

"It says," he cleared his throat with a professional tone and read the words left on his arm by the only person that could have wrote them.

"Did Sammy write that?"

"No, it was Blaine. Blaine is my friend."

"So is Sam," Stevie stated, his small and adorable face screwed up in confusion as he chewed on the last bit of his cracker. He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together with greed before he reached for another one.

Mike quirked an eyebrow and pulled the package away before Stevie could gorge himself too much. "I know that. I just know that Blaine wrote that because I sent him the same thing the night before."

"Were you two fucking?"

"What?" Mike had to grip onto the side of his chair. "What did you say?"

"If you heard each other snoring then you two were sleeping together. That means you were fucking."

"Who taught you that?"

"Sammy."

Mike's mouth fell open even more and he felt a crumb of graham cracker roll off his chin. "No way."

"Yup! He was talkin' to someone on the phone. His face was all red."

Relieved that Sam didn't directly tell his little brother the definition of "fucking", Mike pushed the brown cracker package back to the boy and smiled calmly. "That isn't true, Stevie. When two people sleep together it doesn't always mean… that. Sometimes two people just like to lie in bed together."

"So you and Sammy aren't fucking?"

Mike pulled the package away again.

"No we aren't. He sleeps in the same room as me but he doesn't share my bed," he explained while he stood up, his voice still controlled and calm though he was sure the temperature in the room had exploded to a heavy degree.

"Hey! Your face is red now too!"

He leaned forward on the counter and glared at the small boy. "Sam and I are not sleeping together."

"Morning wood be really awkward," still groggy, Mike's hands gave way and he fell forward onto the counter when Sam's voice echoed behind his own words. "And I am a cuddler so it would be even more awkward."

Mike couldn't believe his face was getting more heated than before as he smiled over at Sam. Sam walked forward and into the kitchen, rubbing a hand over his little brother's hair and chuckling.

"Go back to sleep, Stevie. I'm telling mom about your early morning snack."

Stevie groaned but did as his brother said, his shoulders hunched and his head down as he dragged his feet out of the kitchen so the two older boys were alone in the awkward and heavy silence.

Sam gestured to the front door and Mike, getting the silent hint, obliged and followed his friend out of the front door. They sat on the porch stairs together; the silence of the small suburbia was intoxicating. It reminded Mike of his good fortune for growing up in such a peaceful and middle-class town, no matter what a rich boy like Wes assumed.

He felt unable to speak as the breeze of the night shifted over the top of his forehead. Looking up, Mike felt an odd lurch in his stomach as he noted the full and bright moon, its blue light kissing the grass at their feet and covering the dead road with a soft, cottony shade.

When he managed to tear his eyes away from the sky, he looked over at Sam and was not surprised to see the red glow of a cigarette and the small shades of grey smoke wafting from his mouth. Mike did feel odd about the fact that Sam had the occasional smoke; it felt very uncharacteristic of his best friend. He could not blame Sam for doing it though. Inhaling the calming cigarette smoke was one of Sam's stress relievers, which were picked up from Mr. Chang himself. Though Mike didn't exactly approve of his father and Sam's habits, he understood that they were both under a lot of stress and smoking was the only way they could find solace within such a busy and fast-track world. Mr. Chang was a college Math Professor and Sam was homeless, dependent on his best friend, and a closet gay.

"Did you like Blaine's little message to you?" Sam asked, after inhaling a drag, his eyes glowing red and blue from the moon and the smoldering flame of his cigarette.

"How could I miss it?" Mike held up his forearm and smiled at it, intrigued by the fact that Blaine had, contrary to Mike's belief, terrible handwriting.

Sam laughed in response and took another long drag of smoke, blowing it out expertly with his full lips forming a small 'O'. "He was acting like a giggling little girl. Like Stacy when she drew a mustache on dad when he was sleeping on the couch."

Mike could only imagine Blaine holding back a laugh as he wasted his time on his arm. The thought of Blaine taking his time to steady Mike's arm, touching him with purpose, made Mike grin and rub at the back of his neck anxiously. He leaned back on his hands, the cool texture of the concrete steps calming his heated embarrassment and anxious, racing thoughts. He breathed in the smell of cigarette and breathed out with a content sigh.

Clearly noticing this small action of happiness in the scent of his smoke, Sam held out the cigarette for Michael to take. Mike pushed it away and shook his head absentmindedly. He couldn't deny that he welcomed the hypnotizing smell of sweetened smoke, but he didn't like the taste that it left in his mouth or the damage it threatened on his teeth.

Plus, Mike didn't have much to stress about. His job was easy and the hours were good. As long as his grades remained high and his glee club didn't prevent him from the "important" things in life, he was in a safe zone. His parents didn't even care who he dated (though his mother seemed more intrigued by the "Asian girl" than Matt or Brittany.) He did have things that stressed him but he didn't allow them to poison his thoughts too much, knowing that his own worries were nothing compared to the boy's sitting next to him. _What is Blaine's relationship with me compared to the importance of Sam staying and taking care of Stevie and Stacy while their parents spend weeks on end working odd jobs and looking for permanent ones?_

"I heard that 'Cedes has a new boyfriend," Mike said quietly as he watched Sam take his last drag and put his cigarette out on the concrete between them.

"Yes, I heard Kurt talking to Santana about it today," Sam's tone was straightforward.

"I heard it through the grapevine," Mike nudged him playfully. "Not talking about the cheesy dance step either."

There was a momentary silence before Sam burst into appreciative laughter. "_I ain't no gay beard, Evans_!" He said with enthusiastic and high-voiced sassiness.

"You knew you would get caught eventually," Mike smirked and began to scratch at the cigarette stain next to him, determined to give the step back its cold, grey look.

"I always thought it would be a guy that caught me staring at his ass or something."

"I'm sure Puck thought something along the truth."

"_How many balls can you fit in your mouth?_" Sam mimicked. His Puck voice was amazingly accurate. Mike laughed, loving all of Sam's imitations.

He recalled Sam's nervousness when he first revealed to Mike why Mercedes called their relationship off so dramatically. He had to admit that it came as a surprise to him that Sam was homosexual and he felt completely oblivious for not realizing it sooner.

_"I should have told you."_

_"Yeah, you should have."_

_"I knew that you wouldn't mind or anything, because this kind of thing doesn't matter to you, but I was more afraid to tell you. Dude, I would look like such a dick for not telling you when you openly admitted that you dated some guy named Matt. I do feel like an epic loser for not telling you now."_

_"You should, Sam. Let's go get some ice cream or something."_

_"What?"_

_"Your girlfriend just broke up with you because she found out that you are gay. I'll worry about being mad at you later."_

He didn't care that Sam was gay, but he did care that it was something important to Sam and that he didn't know of it until the middle of summer.

He had later thought that old attraction to Sam would spark again. In his pre-Blaine period, Mike had an attraction for his best friend that he kept secret and hidden from even his girlfriend, who was all for boys making out in front of her. He didn't approve of affection being used purely for someone's entertainment, and he was sure that Sam didn't even remotely swing that way. His attraction did not return to him, however, and he decided that it was for the better. It spared him confusion.

They remained in the silence for a few moments longer as the night sounds shrouded around them, the honks of distant horns and the remains of the day's screams and laughter echoing around their two moonlight-stained figures. The breeze returned while Mike stared up at the moon again, his mind instantly drawn back to his own Moonbeam. He thought of Moonbeam's curls and how they looked in the pale light that night he gave away his first kiss. That night was hot and stuffy after running around so much during the day, but Moonbeam's skin tasted like salt, grass, and smoke from the campfire. He still remembered the soft flower petal texture on his lips when it was dark and his eyes were half-lidded, threatening to close and pull him off to his dream world. The brush of his lips on Blaine's cheek was the thing he remembered before sleeping but forgot when he awoke.

Still enthralled by the glow of the moon and trapped in his thoughts, Mike sat forward and rested his cheek on his own hand, propped up on his knee. He let his thoughts drift to what it would feel and taste like if he kissed Blaine the next time they met. _Coffee, fresh laundry, hair gel, white flowers._ He closed his eyes and conjured up the smell of Blaine he received hours before by leaning against him in feigned and then real sleep.

"Have you asked Blaine yet? Mike? Miiiiikeee? Are you home? Hello Mi—"

"Asked him what?"

"If he wants to come with us next week."

Mike shrugged and turned to look at his friend. Sam had a huge grin on his face, like he had just caught Mike in an awkward situation.

"It's not really giving him time to consider the option."

"We have been planning this all summer. You had time to ask him."

"I haven't asked him yet."

"Get on that, man! Ask him to come. You want him to come right?"

"Of course."

"Is Tina coming too?" Sam scrunched up his nose, as if he were questioning Mike's previous decision on the subject.

"Yes, I suggest you ask Mercedes."

"Bu—"

"—You owe that girl some closure, dude, after using her as a beard like that."

Sam arched his head back in a childish groan before jerking back up to glare at Mike. "I fucking hate how right you are."

"Watch yo'self, Trouty! Stevie heard you talking about fucking and now he uses that word quite liberally."

Sam hit his hand to his forehead and laughed. "I heard him saying it the other day. I'm _definitely_ going to tell mom he snuck into the graham crackers."

"No graham crackers for you either."

"I think I'll avoid them for a while anyway."

Mike watched as Sam stood up and stretched his arms above his head.

"Bed time for me," he said through a yawn.

"You haven't gone to bed yet?"

"Okay, I meant I'm going back to bed."

"You just wanted an excuse to say 'bed time' huh?"

"Yeah…"

()

After a very long shower, Mike decided to text the person on his mind since he looked up at the moon. He thought that he wouldn't get a response since it was still early in the morning and Blaine was probably still asleep.

**-When you wake up I have a question, a very serious question. So very serious that your answer will determine my life or death.-**

Mike chuckled and set his phone down on the edge of the bathroom mirror. He felt a jumble of nerves bursting through him, making him anxious. The toothpaste that foamed in his mouth tasted like pure energy and paranoia, the strong mint flavor waking him to a brand new terror that Blaine would somehow find something offensive or send a text back that would expose and reprimand Mike for being a shameless flirt.

_And now I have set myself all morning to worry about it. _Mike shook his head as he stared at his face in the mirror, his hands shaking as he moved his toothbrush quickly over his teeth. He hated texting Blaine, he hated the feeling it gave him, like he was going to majorly fuck everything up.

Just as he was putting his toothbrush away (in its regular spot) his phone started to buzz. He jumped and watched as the purple and yellow brush fell to the floor with a small clatter.

His hands, still shaking, reached for his phone and pulled it up to see that Blaine had replied.

**-I'm already awake, just got out of the shower. Not that you needed to know that. Anyway, what did you want to know? I'll try not to answer wrong for fear of Michael Chang's life! :)-**

**-Are you busy next week?-**

**-No, not really. Six Flags was seasonal and the season is already over. You're not planning some kind of weeklong party, are you?-**

**-Something like that.-**

**-Well, what is it then?-**

**-Road trip.-**

**-Road trip? Next week? You aren't really giving me time to think or ask my parents about this.-**

**-You have the rest of this week! I was going to ask you sooner but I needed to check with Sam first.- **Mike leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, already regretting sending the text. _I have got to stop pulling him into all of my lies. _

**-Where are we going?-**

**-New York-**

The phone started ringing much to his surprise. He fumbled with the device, his jumbled nerves acting up again when he saw Blaine's name flashing across the flat screen.

"Hey?"

"Sorry, I'm doing my hair and I have you on speaker. I can't text."

"Is your hair a lot of work or something?" Mike laughed, his smooth and unreadable voice coming to him in an instant. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the bathroom mirror, once again a cool surface welcome to him. Mike moved his hand to his stomach and rubbed it over his shirt, trying to calm the bubbling mixture of nerves and longing.

"I like to take my time."

"But why? Your hair just gets messed up by the end of the day anyway," _and it is so adorable. _

"Oh trust me, if I let my hair go free it would be a lot worse than the way it looks at the end of the day."

_I know._

"If you go on this road trip with us I better not see any hair gel in your luggage."

"Speaking of that, how exactly are you going to pay for that?"

"I still have money left over from camp last year and I have saved up some money for it from Chopstix," he moved a hand to the back of his head and scratched at it, the feel of his own hair underneath his nails familiar to him from times before.

"You have been splurging all summer on Sam, Michael!" Blaine's voice was abnormally strained and urgent.

"What is wrong with a little bit of adventure?"

"What is wrong with _you_? Is it just you, me, and Sam?"

"No, I invited Tina and I think Sam is going to invite Mercedes… maybe."

"Are they paying?"

"Tina is going to pay for gas, I am going to pay for food and hotel rooms," he felt a grin crawling up on his lips as he thought about Blaine's own nervous pacing, apparent by the sound of the speaker echoing Blaine's steps in his bathroom. "We'll all have to share one room though, sound like fun?"

"Sounds like we would all end up complaining about shower usage."

"We could share!" Mike replied with a loud laugh. When Blaine didn't respond Mike felt his worrisome, albeit self-inflicted, stomach churning return. "I was kidding… it was a joke."

"Uh… yeah, I know."

"Sorry, if that was inappropriate."

"Oh please! I am the king of inappropriate!"

"Oh really?"

"I didn't mean it that way."

Mike snorted back a laugh and held his hand up to his lips to keep it from escaping fully. "I never said it meant anything, Blaine."

"I'll talk to you later today, bye!"

A frown worthy of a five-year-old indented Mike's face as he pocketed his phone and went through his normal routine of going over every word that they exchanged, making sure that nothing was messed up and that nothing was left in wanting. His eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as his thoughts raced over each syllable.

Mike's thought process kept him occupied as he tripped into his own room and glanced over at a sleeping Sam, his arms wrapped around his normal stack of comic books. His mouth opened in a yawn, influenced by the familiar buzzing and fumbling in his throat and stomach.

He could only think of Moonbeam. The way his curly hair breezed over his forehead and how his round eyes stared up at him by the river, pink rocks in his hand and red tinge on his cheek. Mike knew that he could have kissed him again in that moment, even though they were young and hardly old enough to understand the feelings, Mike still felt like he could have pressed his own lips against Moonbeam's without hesitation.

It wasn't easy for Mike to think about Blaine and Moonbeam as two different people and he knew that was his main problem. Ever since he discovered the map, the book, and the flower, Mike's world was sent into a very strong and dizzying spiral of confusion and emotion. Before that he had thought of Blaine as "that-guy-who-can-sing-and-do-a-bunny-hop-across-the-stage." He thought Blaine was adorable but nothing more, and certainly nothing special to him. When he thought about his reflection on Blaine back then, he felt moderately sick for feeling so despondent toward someone who had such an impact on his life. Then he felt even worse for letting his memory from years ago haze his view on who Blaine really was.

His attempts to get to know Blaine were blocked, however, by his own past emotions and memories. The romanticized feelings of his first kiss being pressed on a childhood friend's soft and spark ensuing cheek and the abandoned sentiment of being left behind kept him distracted from his real objective. He hated it. He hated how he wanted to be near Blaine just to catch a hint of the Moonbeam.

Mike thought about this as he got dressed for work, making sure to kick Sam and laugh every time he walked by his air mattress, and managed to come to the same old conclusion. He needed to wait. He needed to be sure that he knew Blaine for who he was and not for whom he used to be. As much as Mike goofed off, played around, and spontaneously danced, he was still cautious when it came to important decisions that would affect his or someone else's life.

His mind was so occupied with all the possibilities and ways his relationship with Blaine could be if he confessed his identity and when the right time would be to tell him, that he managed to mess up more than three orders and serve the wrong food a few times as well. He felt insanely grateful that it was his last night at the restaurant and that his distractions would not leave a bad mark on his record. Though he didn't care about the result of being distracted at work either way, his entire body expressed to him how important his own thoughts were compared to the monotone of serving and cleaning. It gave him the warmth in his stomach when he thought of a happy outcome with Blaine, and then a chill from the thought of something opposite of that. It told him when he was staring absentmindedly for too long by making his eyes sore from not blinking. It reminded him that the full and nervous jittering in his stomach was not a good substitute for food.

Even his fellow employees noticed that something was different from his normal, shy demeanor and were constantly asking him even he was alright. He didn't respond; he was far too involved worrying about what his future was going to withhold if he went on this trip and Blaine came along too, or what would happen if he told Blaine too soon… or too late.

These worries were stronger than they ever had been; the scent of Blaine still in his memory and the feel of the fabric of Blaine's shirt grazing and then pressing against his arm. His smile, brightened by the red light in the very restaurant he was robotically walking through, was still imprinted in Mike and influencing the very same smile that ghosted over Mike's lips every now and then.

"Why is Mike a fucking zombie today?"

"He is probably just sad that this is his last day here."

()

He was finally coming out of this lapse of thought when he pulled up to his house, only to be yanked back into a more worried wavelength when he noticed Blaine's car, which Blaine never drove, parked in front of his house. Not bothering to park with his normal attention and detail, Mike hurried out of his car and stumbled toward the house.

"Mikey!" Stacy said when she saw him burst through the door, his eyes scanning around for a sign of Blaine. "The kid with the eyebrows is here! He is sad!" Stacy was in a stage where she felt like shouting everything. Her words moved throughout the house and struck Mike with their vibrations, a sort of shockwave hitting right to his chest and sparking urgency.

"Up here, Mike."

His feet made loud and stumbling beats as they trampled up the stairs and into his room where he came across a tear-stricken Blaine and Sam awkwardly resting a hand on his back as a sign of comfort. Mike looked Blaine in the eyes, trying to read their expression and their aching needs. He instantly wanted to soothe him and cure him of whatever ailed him.

"What's wrong?"

"I—" Blaine sniffed and rubbed at his nose. "I'm stupid."

"What happened?"

"I—"

"He isn't stupid," Sam objected and stood up to meet Mike at the door way. He leaned in and whispered lowly in his ear. "He ran away. He and his dad got into a fight."

Blaine looked wrecked, like he had been through years of sadness and loss. His hair was flopping around his head and his eyes were red with fresh tears.

Mike stepped around Sam and knelt in front of Blaine, who was sitting on his bed. Mike reached a finger up and wiped at Blaine's cheek, a tear spilling over the knuckle of his finger. His eyes watched as the tear spilled around the roundness of his finger until it finally fell onto the carpet of his room. He looked back up at Blaine, their eyes meeting and searching each other's. The moment stuck for seconds, when it felt like it was minutes or hours, until Blaine drew in a sharp and surprised breath.

"You can stay here, okay?" Mike whispered, brushing Blaine's hair from his forehead. "We'll figure something out."

Blaine nodded and sniffed again. Then, to Mike's surprise, he shook his head vigorously. "I'm going. I'm going with you on your stupid road trip in which we may or may not have to share a shower."

"Oh hell no! Sam shares his showers with no one!"

"Blaine," Mike whispered in an even lower voice. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"

"I need it; I need a break from… him. I can't explain it."

Michael finally pulled away and sat down next to Blaine on the bed, taking the opportunity to rub Blaine's back. He didn't have to understand why Blaine needed to get away, all he needed to know was that Blaine was looking to him for an escape, and that is what Mike was going to give him.

Mike looked up at his best friend for reassurance. Sam smiled in return and nodded his head, but something about his smile seemed forced and sad, as if he had just lost something important to him. Mike furrowed his eyebrows in question but Sam shook his head and looked away, a forced smile still remaining on his mouth.


	11. Dream Thinking

Mike Chang's bed smelled exactly the way he did and as Blaine turned over and buried his face in one of the pillows, he imagined its owner cuddling up next to him in the sheets and scent. A very tiny smile came to his lips as he pictured those strong arms wrapping around him and that soft hair rubbing against his face. The smile remained though companioned by a single tear from the stress of the day.

Blaine had explained to his two friends that he had planned on asking his father about their spontaneous road trip and found himself in a very frustrating situation.

_"I scheduled an appointment for you, Blaine."_

He had thought that their relationship was going back to that of his childhood of laughing and watching football games together. His father smile seemed to be returning before he spoke those words. Blaine, still hoping for a chance at light but awkward joking, responded. _"Oh, with who? I already told you I'm not going on some game show because my knowledge of Broadway trivia is extensive."_

It was meant to be just a joke, but his father was not in the joking mood. The toothy grin that would make Mr. Anderson's eyes crinkle at the sides was nowhere to be found on his now stern and cold face.

"_With Doctor Ellis."_

_"He calls himself a therapist,"_Blaine had explained to Mike and Sam earlier. "_He specializes in... chemical imbalance in the brain and how it can affect someone's… sexuality. I won't go back to a man who thinks I am mentally disabled for being who I am."_

Blaine was yanked out of his short remembrance of these conversations when a pair of voices echoed through the floor of Mike's bedroom. The voices became clearer as their volume increased, drawing Blaine's attention.

He sat up, pulling a pillow with a strange blue phone box printed on it with him. Mike and Sam had left Blaine in Mike's room while they talked to the rest of the household about the possibility of Blaine staying there until he settled things with his dad or if he found a better place. From the shouting, Blaine could tell that it wasn't going very well. He could feel his throat starting to scratch and fresh tears of worry spilled from the corner of his eyes.

He pulled himself off the bed, gravity arguing with his legs as they trembled underneath his weight. The floor creaked beneath him but wasn't loud enough to give away his movement to the people yelling below him.

It didn't surprise him how well kept Mike's room was, the carpet and Sam's section of the room being the only exceptions. Blaine scanned the carpet and noticed that it was beaten down and worn, the black marks of shoes strongly accenting the points in which Mike had fumbled or possibly danced across the pale white carpet. _Perhaps he fumbled while dancing. I doubt this carpet is useful when it comes to fancy footwork._Blaine's smile returned as he ran his own feet across the scuff marks on the carpet, feeling a little more connected with Mike as he followed each matted down patch of carpet and each indented mark beneath him.

Blaine's eyes lingered to the open closet and scanned over the several pairs of shoes running along the bottom of the closet. All brilliantly colored from lemons to strawberries, the shoes decorated the wood floor of the closet and gave the entire room a feeling of sort of dancing and sporadic movement.

Blaine peered closer and noticed a pair of plain black tap shoes stuffed behind some orange Chuck Taylors and he felt a sort of ache to bring them out into the open, not hidden behind colors. They were probably the more important shoes of the whole lot and expressed who Mike was in a more prominent way.

As he stepped closer to the closet, Blaine recognized the red checkered vest that Mike had worn when they went bowling hanging above the shoes with other shirts, vests, and jackets. Blaine closed his eyes and stretched out his hand to touch the fabric. He remembered the rest of that outfit; the suspenders, the long, black slacks, and red sneakers that looked pristine next to Sam's old All Stars. He smiled again and pressed his face against the fabric, breathing in the smell.

The flower petal and warm bread smell of Mike was stronger on his clothing compared to his sheets. Blaine inhaled until he felt his chest tighten, and then breathed out with a heavy, relaxed sigh. He was half tempted to pull the vest off its hanger and wrap it in his arms, but resisted the urge, deciding that what he was doing was already creepy enough.

Blaine grinned and pushed the vest aside to look at the green T-shirt behind it. His eyes scanned over the graphic printed on top of it, his smile still remaining. He traced a finger over the shapes as he thought of Mike wearing it during their first bike ride together.

He laughed aloud as he remembered Mike's shaky grip on the handlebars and the way his dark eyes were focused on the road ahead with immense concentration.

"_He never learned_," Sam had whispered as they waited for Mike to catch up. _"I had to teach him the basics a few days ago."_

_"I wish I could have been there to see that."_

The next shirt was a long-sleeved, bright yellow and checkered shirt. He fiddled with the tiny white buttons on the cuffs and ran his other hand under the sleeve. He tried to imagine what it would be like to run his hand up the sleeve with Mike's arm inside of it. He imagined feeling the warmth and beat of Mike's body beneath his fingers and a small blush appeared at the top of his cheeks.

Searching through Mike's clothing and recollecting the memories that came with them lasted and distracted Blaine for a while. However, when he heard the thump of footsteps outside of the door, his mind went straight back to his situation and why he was there. He stumbled back until the back of his legs hit the edge of Mike's bed and caused him to collapse pathetically back into the sheets.

Sam burst into the room, a frown set on his face. He glanced over at Blaine, acknowledged him, and then fell onto his air mattress with a dull thwack of rubber and rustling.

"What's up?" Blaine crossed his legs and pulled himself up fully onto the bed so he could peer over at his friend.

Sam raised his head from his pillow and stared over at Blaine, his large lips parted in exasperation. "So much noise," he buried his head back into his pillow, grumbling lowly.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said in a barely audible tone. He felt the guilt surge through him in an instant. He knew that all of this noise was because of him being there. With a sigh, Blaine fell back into the soft blue comforter. "Do you think Kurt will let me stay at his place?"

"Do you think Kurt's _dad_ will let you stay at his place?"

"He knows that we broke up."

"He also knows that you are both horny teenagers."

"Kurt isn't," Blaine replied with a scoff.

"Poor Blaine has been denied sex."

"Fuck you, Sam. The subject didn't even come up. I know how to keep it in my pants and we weren't dating long enough for me to feel it appropriate to make a move."

Sam muffled his laughter with his pillows. In response to Sam's obvious amusement, Blaine pulled one of Mike's pillows and chucked it in Sam's direction.

"Missed."

"I figured."

Silence plagued them after that. It was odd for Blaine. He could usually talk to Sam with incredible ease, their friendship having been tied tightly from their summer adventures. Since Mike was usually silent when the three of them were together, it was up to Sam and Blaine to keep up the conversation. But now there seemed to be a wall between them. Blaine felt his lips form into a pout as he thought about it. Mike and Sam were a lot alike, but Sam was less reserved. Mike could jump around and call out with enthusiasm but he was also abnormally quiet most of the time, especially when he was surrounded by strangers.

His mind drifted back to Chopstix when Mike was so inebriated with a lack of sleep that he spoke of his first kiss to two complete strangers. He liked that Mike, that open and teasing Mike that he got to text all the time but never really spoke to face to face.

Blaine glanced over at Sam's back; he was now curled up on his air mattress facing away from Blaine, and considered Sam's friendship with Mike. How much did he know about Mike? Was Sam distant with Blaine because Blaine and Mike were getting friendlier? Struck by this thought, Blaine scooted to the edge of the bed and nudged Sam with his foot.

"I have a question."

"Hmm?" Sam muttered, his face pressed into the pillow that Blaine had thrown at him. He looked up when Blaine didn't respond right away, an imprint of the pillow's design marked across his face.

"Have you noticed that Mike gets really quiet?"

"He does that mostly when he has something to say but doesn't want to say it," Sam said with a heavy sigh. "He also thinks a lot. And for being such an observant type, he sure is oblivious." The last of his sentence felt more private than anything, like Sam was merely speaking to himself.

"Oh," Blaine said weakly. He was now curious about Sam's tone but chose not to pose a question about it. "You think?"

Sam pulled Mike's pillow up to his face again and fell back into his mattress, muttering an affirmation. Still eager to learn why Sam just knew these things, Blaine nudged Sam with his foot again.

"What?" Sam growled.

"Why do you think that?"

"I've known him for a year. He is my best friend. I know these things."

"Did he tell you?"

"Yeah, because Mike is the kind of guy that pours out his entire thought process," Sam pulled the pillow from his face and stared at Blaine. "Why?"

"I'm just curious."

"Why?" Sam was sitting up now, still clinging onto Mike's pillow.

"Can't a guy be curious?"

"Why are you grilling me about my relationship with Mike?"

Blaine's eyes widened and he threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Whoa—whoa, calm down." Sam's face softened instantly into an embarrassed smile and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he apologized and scrambled up onto Mike's bed, facing Blaine and crossing his legs. Blaine grinned, amused by Sam's sudden change in attitude.

"It's fine, I shouldn't have been so persistent."

They both chuckled awkwardly.

After a few beats Sam spoke up. "It's his dancing."

"Hmm?"

"Mike is the kind of guy that tells you who he is through his dancing," the corner of Sam's mouth twitched up and his eyes seemingly glazed over as if he were in deep thought. "He dances with all of himself. He doesn't need words and stuff, man."

"It's kind of like those small moments when his eyes look around, kind of shift, and you can tell something important is on his mind," Blaine was now realizing that he wasn't alone in the curiosity about who Mike Chang was. The result to this discovery was a slight burning in the pit of his stomach, reminding him that Mike wasn't only special to him, but also to the boy sitting in front of him. Jealousy was unavoidable. "I haven't been able to watch him dance much though, but you can see things like that… I—if you're watching."

Sam let out a small laugh. "Why did you ask me if you already knew?"

"I don't know. I don't know what all of his twitches and facial expressions mean."

Sam leaned back on his arms and sighed again. "I know exactly what you mean."

Before Blaine could go on, the door opened and Mike slipped in, his eyes closed as if he were trying to shove the experience he just had out of his mind. He leaned against the wall next to the door and took a few deep breaths before peeking one eye open and looking over at the two boys watching him. "Why do I feel like I invaded a little girl's slumber party?" He smiled and walked over to the bed and sat down, making it a very tight squeeze for all three of them. Mike raised his eyebrows and looked around at the other two. "What are you guys talking about?"

"What did they say?" Blaine asked abruptly. Sam nodded his head approvingly as Mike faced away from him toward Blaine.

"I was kind of hoping I would be able to distract you from that subject," Mike sighed and yanked his pillow out of Sam's grasp. "They said that you can stay for the night but—"

"I'll have to find somewhere else tomorrow?"

Mike bit down on his lip and looked over at Sam before looking back at Blaine and muttering. "Yeah, I'm sorry." Mike frowned and leaned his head on the blue pillow.

"No, it's okay, I unders—"

"If I just did a little better in school last year, they probably would have let yo—"

"Shut up, Mike," Sam scoffed and stole the pillow back, causing Mike to fall forward a bit so he had to balance himself by gripping onto Blaine's knee. "You got straight A's last year." The rest of Sam's words were muffled out by the concentration that Blaine had on Mike's now receding hand.

"I know, but I could have taken different classes that my dad wanted me to take."

"Now that is ridiculous," Blaine stammered, pushing Mike lightly on the shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself, I'll text Kurt and see if I can stay with him."

This didn't seem to improve Mike's mood at all. Blaine, assuming that Mike was wary about how it would affect him to stay with Kurt, gave him a small comprehensive smile.

"So where do I sleep?" Blaine asked, rubbing his hands together and looking around the room.

After a few minutes of discussing the issue _("You can sleep in Mike's bed, he can sleep on the floor.")_ they finally decided on all of them sleeping in the TV room.

"As long as I don't have to sleep on a couch," Mike said quietly as they walked down the stairs and into the den, blankets and pillows in hand. Blaine was clutching onto a thick green comforter, pulled out of the hallway closet, and one of Mike's blue printed pillows.

"What is this anyway?" He asked, gesturing to the design on the pillow case.

"That is a pillow," Sam said with obvious sarcasm.

"I-It's a TARDIS," Mike said quickly after he punched Sam in the arm. His face had gone suddenly red with obvious embarrassment. "From Doctor Who?"

"What?"

"It's a sci-fi show, Blaine," Sam was smirking now, more so at Mike than at Blaine. "You wouldn't understand."

Blaine sniffed, faking offense. "I'll have you know that I am very fond of Sci-Fi… I've watched… movies."

"Awesome, Blaine. Just awesome." Sam patted Blaine on the arm and continued to smirk at Mike, who was busy holding back a laugh.

"Okay, fine. Sorry I'm not a huge geek!" Blaine said loudly, shoving both of his friends and sitting down on the couch.

"You should be sorry, you are very deprived," Mike sat next to Blaine and patted him on the back as a form of sympathy. Blaine shrugged Mike's hand off, even though everything in his body enjoyed the touch, and sat back into the squeaky leather couch.

Blaine was about to pull a blanket over himself when two kids rambled into the room, bounding over each other and down the small set of steps into the room. They ran toward Mike and tackled him down onto the couch.

"Help!" Mike called out with a laugh as they started to mess his hair up. "Help! I'm sinking!" He reached his hand up and clutched that the air in a weak swipe at freedom from the two giggling children.

"Pebble the Penguin!" Stacy said, looking expectantly at Mike and then over at Sam.

"It's _The Pebble and the Penguin_, Stacy." Her older brother corrected with a glare.

"Shut up—"

"Alright, _The Pebble and the Penguin_," Mike went to stand up with a grunt as the children were still holding onto him. He lifted his arms up so the two of them were dangling from each of his arms as he trudged toward the entertainment system. Blaine took the opportunity to admire the way Mike's uniform clung to his back as his muscles were put to use during the feat of carrying two kids.

Mike dropped both of them down and pulled an old VHS tape from a crack between the top of the TV and the cabinet. He turned around and smirked at Blaine and Sam, flicking the edge off the tape.

"Old school," He winked and slid the tape into the video player.

Mike leaped over to the couch and sat in between Blaine and Sam before the little ones could cling onto him again. Unfortunately the gap between Blaine and Sam was wide enough for Mike, Stacy, and Stevie to fit. Blaine ended up with the edge of Stevie's foot in his side and he winced.

"Look what you did boy!" Mike called out and laughed as Stevie yelped and scrambled away from Blaine to squeeze between Mike and his sister. With fake grudging, Mike scooted over next to Blaine and put his arms up as Stacy followed him and wrapped her arms around his torso.

"Mikey is a-a muscle machine!" She pressed her face up against his chest and grinned over at Blaine like they were secret partners in crime.

"I don't know who told you that," Mike replied, his face getting adorably red and his eyes flicking up to meet Blaine's in apology. Blaine scrunched his nose up as if to ask why Mike felt like an apology was necessary. In response Mike pouted his lips in and jerked his head in a slight shrug.

"Sammy did! Sammy said Mikey was a muscle man."

Without a second to pause, Sam sat up and pulled his sister off Mike's lap and onto his own. "I was only saying that they should tackle you more often because you can handle it more than I can."

"Well thank god, Sammy. Heaven forbid they tackle_you_too much," Mike chuckled and rubbed at his stomach, stretching back against the couch and lifting his arms up.

"Hey, I have dealt with these two longer than you, Mikey. Give this guy a little break."

"What about you, Blaine? Care to take these kids for a spin? You can be their dapper father."

Blaine shook his head and grinned, glad to be included in the conversation. "I don't think I could handle it. I'm not a tough jock like you two!"

A little bit into the movie the two children started to act up again, begging Mike to sing along with the song that was about to come up.

"I won't— can't— I knew we shouldn't have watched this movie," Mike's face was starting to go red again and he looked at Blaine with a "save me" expression.

"Sing? I would like to hear that!" Blaine crossed a leg toward him and pursed his lips, containing a laugh as he waited for Mike's reaction.

"No, I'm not—"

"Please, Mikey! Please? I love The Wonder Song!" Stacy begged.

"Alright, alright. I'll do it. Only if—" he held a finger up in touched her nose. "Only if you promise to dance with me." He picked her up and held her over his shoulder before putting her down on the ground in front of the couch. She held up her hands, gripping the air in front of her and begging him with her eyes for him to pick her back up. Instead he took her hands into his and pulled her in before spinning her out again so her nightgown flew around her knees.

And then he started singing.

_Sometimes I wonder what the colors mean  
>Why the sea is green like your eyes.<em>

"My eyes aren't green!"

"Her eyes aren't green!"

"Shhh, just go with it."

_Sometimes I wonder why the moon is new  
>Where the stars are shooting to<br>When they're shooting through the skies  
>There's wondrous things that I would like to know<br>Like how they make the winds and turn the tides  
>And then I wonder why I wonder so<br>While other guys are busy choosing brides_

Mike knelt down at Stacy's feet before standing up and spinning her around. He dipped her while she giggled in shrieks. He continued to sing, his voice echoing quietly behind the singing penguin. Blaine could tell that the shaking of Mike's voice meant that he was nervous and though Mike wasn't a terrible singer, he definitely wasn't amazing either. Blaine could admit that much to himself.

But Blaine couldn't help but really enjoy Mike's voice, and the words. The words expressed so much innocence and philosophical longing. They fit Mike's constantly searching eyes and quick expressions. The words penetrated Blaine.

His eyes watched Mike's face as he sang, his eyebrows were raised and his eyes wide with a smile. Blaine had never seen that look on his face before, his lips in a sort of pouty smile that seemingly expressed guidance and welcome to his less experienced partner.

_Sometimes I wonder if there'll ever be  
>Someone right for me<em>

Blaine perked up as Mike's voice softened even more and he picked Stacy up. She rested her head on his shoulder and beamed up at him. Mike looked over her body at Blaine and then at Sam. He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance but his smile portrayed adoration.

_Someone who may wonder too  
>Who's wonderful like-<em>

"Me!" Stacy said loudly and tossing her head back to look at Blaine and Sammy. "Mikey thinks I'm wonderful."

"Of course I do! That last part was just for you," Mike replied, his voice dripping with adorable, over-acted love.

Blaine felt a calm rush over him as he watched the scene. Mike playing around with these children as if they were his own brother and sister gave Blaine a more definite vision of his character. He always thought that Mike was generally a nice guy, but the only proof he really had was Sam's word and his own hope. People didn't talk about Mike that much. People didn't seem to realize what an amazing and talented guy he was and this sudden realization broke Blaine's calm and smashed it with sadness.

He had always known that people didn't normally pay attention to Mike, except a few giggly waitresses that clearly thought his silence was mystery, but the cold truth hurt Blaine.

After the movie was over and the kids were sent grudgingly to bed, Blaine decided to text Kurt, knowing that Kurt was probably asleep so not really expecting an answer right away.

**-Can you do me a favor?-**

"Who are you texting, Blaine?" Mike asked with a yawn as he spread his blanket out over the floor next to the couch. A smug, teasing smile cracked his lips as he observed Blaine. "Your boyfriend?"

"Jesus Christ!" Sam shouted from the other couch. "This really is a little girl's slumber party!"

"Sammy," Blaine called back, making sure to express his vowels with zeal. "Michelle told me that you kissed Johnny! You know I am in love with him, you whore!"

"Whatever," Mike placed a hand on one hip while popping the other out in a diva stance. "I did not tell Blair that, Sammy."

"Ew, Blair? Gross. Never call me that again!"

"Blaine? Blair? It works."

"Blair is a gross name. It makes me think of evil step-mothers."

"Oh my god!" Sam managed to chuck a pillow at Blaine which bounced off and hit Mike. "I'm not playing along with this."

"I'm hearing a lot of talking and not enough snoring!" A voice called out from the upstairs.

"What Mrs. Chang said," another voice said from below.

Blaine hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook in silent laughter. He looked over at the other two and saw that Sam had a red and embarrassed expression while Mike decided to throw his face into his pillow.

Mike stood up after a few seconds to turn off the light and Blaine could see a wide grin on his face. Maybe it was from the pretense that they were three little girls or maybe he was smiling for other reasons, either way it was contagious. Blaine's eyes crinkled up into as he grinned as well, the dark covering his happiness.

But as soon as Mike's rustling stopped and the streetlights seeped through the cracks in the curtain to light the room a little, Blaine felt the tension of the day's events surround him and choke him. His smile was gone as quickly as it came.

When it was clear the other two were asleep, Blaine could feel the tears starting to flow and a whimper threatening to escape from the back of his throat. He turned toward the back of the couch and wiped at his face, trying to keep himself quiet. He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes, letting out a small frustrated sigh. _I'm being so dramatic. I should just go back home tomorrow and apologize… Maybe compromise. No, he is wrong. He is totally wrong. I'm never going back._

He debated this in his head until his eyes started to close. Being weaker and unable to contain it anymore, he started to shudder in quiet sobs, his chest heaving with each gasp. He didn't care how loud he was, he was too tired and upset.

He didn't realize how loud he really was until a warm hand closed over his shoulder and he felt himself being turned around. He opened his eyes to see Mike's silhouette in front of him. Another hand reached up and wiped the tears off Blaine's cheek.

Blaine shuffled over a little bit as Mike moved to join him, the couch making annoying sounds that echoed through the room. Both of them halted in silence as Sam moved a little and let out a small snore. When the threat was over Mike pulled his remaining leg up and though Blaine couldn't see Mike's eyes, he could feel them staring at him. He could feel Mike's warmth breath colliding with his own.

Mike's thumb delicately wiped the tears from the corner of Blaine's eyes. Each swipe left Blaine's skin feeling more heated and alive, but his sleepy and blurry eyes still couldn't grasp the reality of the situation. He let out another sigh and bowed his head down so he could rest it against Mike's chest, very much the way that Stacy had done earlier that night. He could hear Mike's heart pounding fast.

When Blaine looked up at Mike, he was still unable to fully see his face in the dull light. But maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that he felt like he was stuck in a confusing, hazy dream. Perhaps this was all for the better even more so when Mike leaned his head down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead and then over his eyes, his nose, his cheek and then—

Blaine's drew in a sharp breath as Mike's lips traced over his own.

_My lips, he is kissing my lips._Blaine returned the kiss eagerly, his hands finding the sleeves of Mike's shirt and pulling him in closer. His lips tasted the way a warm and inviting summer would taste. Mike leaned closer and Blaine gasped when a slick, wet tongue slipped over his mouth. He held back a pleased moan when his own tongue met Mike's and the kiss deepened.

He couldn't fully grasp the things that were actually happening, his mind still in shock that Michael Chang's hands were pulling him closer and trailing down to his shoulders, and that his mouth was now closed around Blaine's lower lip, sucking at it tenderly.

The aftereffects of crying and sleepiness were taking its toll. Blaine couldn't even believe that the entire thing was real, that Mike Chang was now dragging a hand up to his hair and moving his body on top of Blaine. Mike's fingers dug into his hair wildly, breaking apart the remaining gelled down locks with each movement.

Their lips remained in contact for what seemed like minutes until Mike pulled away for air, his mouth inches away from Blaine's.

"Sorry," Mike whispered so quietly that Blaine barely caught it.

"For what," Blaine whispered back, his mouth already missing the taste of lemons and summertime. His could barely keep his mind on track and his eyes opened.

"I totally just took advantage of you," Mike replied as he shifted his weight off Blaine and ended up on his knees next the couch.

Blaine, still too sleepy to really understand, only smiled and placed a hand over Mike's cheek. He could feel Michael start to smile beneath his fingers and he blinked, surprised by it for some reason he couldn't even explain. "You make me feel better."

"You're really tired and I'm the king of bad timing. The worst timing, I wasn't planning it this way. We'll talk about this in the morning."

"Okay," Blaine said with a happy sigh as he turned to cuddle up next to the back of the couch. "Thank you, Kurt. You always know how to cheer me up."

There was a long pause before Mike spoke a low and inaudible response.

()

**-Sorry about not responding last night. I was talking on the phone and I didn't see that I had a message when I hung up.-**

Why would Kurt Hummel stay up late just to talk to someone on the phone? He had a routine that he had to fulfill before bed that took up an hour and then a routine in the morning that required him to wake up early. _He didn't even stay up late to talk to me when we were dating,_Blaine thought to himself as he as he started to reply.

**-I was just wondering if I could stay at your house for the rest of the week?-**

"Texting your boyfriend again, Blaine?" Mike said as he walked into the room, his hair glistening wet from the shower he just had.

Blaine licked his lips and started to stammer a response. "N-no! I do nah-not have a boyfa-friend!" He glared at Mike until the latter turned around, his laugh echoing behind him as he exited the room.

His face fell into a frown again. It wasn't fair that he could kiss that boy in his dreams but couldn't do so in reality. It wasn't fair that he even had dreams like that, dreams that constantly tortured him because he couldn't have what they gave him, not in reality at least. Blaine grumbled to himself as he finished folding up his blanket.

**-Why?-**

**-My dad kind of kicked me out.-**

**-Kind of.-**

**-I ran away.-**

**-Why?-**

**-Because of reasons.-**

**-WHY?-**

**-I'll tell you if we meet face to face.-**

**-Fine. Let me ask my dad.-**

**-Thank you. Remind him that it will only be for the remainder of the week.-**

**-Of course.-**

****Blaine sat awkwardly on the couch, his arms in his lap and a curious smile on his face as he watched the Chang-Evans family work through their morning routine. Mike seemed the most busy. He was picking up toys left by the children, listening to his iPod, doing his hair, eating breakfast, and still getting dressed.

"I hope that is Spanish you are listening to, Michael Jr." Mike's father said as they passed each other in the hallway.

"Sí."Mike responded before shoving a piece of toast into his mouth before he started buttoning up his red, checkered vest. _Damn you for wearing that!_

"Michael," Mrs. Chang said before Mike could escape into the TV room. "Let me do your hair."

"Mom," Mike easily dodged her hands. "I like it like this."

"Will you slick it back just one time for me?"

Mike groaned and ducked his head down so she could reach it. His hair gel was still malleable and Mrs. Chang easily pushed it down and back so that adorable bit of hair that usually strayed above his forehead was matted down with the rest of his black hair. Blaine liked it, but not as much as he liked the way Mike normally did it.

Mike finally sat down in the recliner next to Blaine. He paused his iPod and looked over with a glare at Blaine, who was stifling laughter. "How did you sleep last night, _curly_."

Blaine cried out and covered his hair, now realizing that it was probably a curly mess. "I need hair gel."

"No you don't." Mike stood up again. "I'll be right back."

**-He says you can but he'll be keeping an eye on you.-**

**-I can handle that. Thank you so much! I'll be over soon.-**

When Mike returned, spray bottle in hand, Blaine was brushing himself off and standing up.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah," Blaine said quietly. "Kurt's dad said I could stay at their house."

Blaine thought he caught a look of panic flash across Mike's face, but assumed it was just hopeful thinking when Mike smiled.

"At least let me do your hair?"

()

He decided to drive with the windows down so he could feel the tickle of wild hair surrounding his forehead. _I definitely need a haircut,_he thought to himself with a smile, bobbing his head happily. He blew a curl out of his eyes and laughed to himself.

Blaine glanced at his reflection in his rear view mirror and his smile grew. Mike didn't really do anything with his hair except for calm the over-night frizz, which was surprisingly stronger than usual. (Mike even had the audacity to call it "drunken make-out hair.")

When Blaine arrived at the Hummel-Hudson residence he found himself interrupting a video game marathon between Puck, Finn, and Rachel, much to his surprise.

"I'm going to kill you, Puckerman!" Rachel roared as she lifted her remote comically over her head while Finn and Puck exchanged looks of foreboding. "Oh hello, Blaine Warbler," Rachel continued to keep the TV in her sight as she spoke. "These two boys are showing me how to play this game where we get to stab aliens. I predict that it will help me with my agility and quickness, which is always required when one is faced with a chance of improv on Broadway."

"No, Berry," Puck glared over at her. "Shoot, shoot. Kill, kill. That is what this game is about."

They both looked over at Finn to see what side he would take. Finn shrugged and took a bite of pizza. "I've heard it both ways."

Blaine said his hellos and followed Kurt upstairs to a very familiar bedroom. Kurt hadn't arranged it any different, which was surprising. Blaine had pictured Kurt as the kind of guy who would rearrange things after a break up. _But then again he wasn't as affected as I was._

"You'll be sleeping on the couch downstairs, but obviously it is occupied," Kurt rolled his eyes in the direction of the downstairs, where Rachel was clearly shouting out a victory. (_"You killed your partner, Berry! That isn't a victory!")_

"Kurt," Blaine said with his usual pretentious tone that he took on whenever he felt like teasing. "It's one o'clock in the evening. I'm not too worried about where I am going to—"

Before he knew what was happening, Blaine found himself in a tight hug.

"I missed you," Kurt said into Blaine's neck. "I miss talking to you."

When Blaine moved away and had time to take in the entire situation, he spoke. "Kurt, I don't know how you are going to feel about this and I don't want to hurt your feelings but," he took in a big breath. "I'm over you."

Kurt's response was a loud laugh. "I don't miss you like that, Blaine!" It was his turn to take on the pretentious tone. "I miss having a best friend like you. Rachel is great and I love her to death but I miss talking to you, Blaine Warbler."

He blinked, feeling stupid but relieved at the same time. And annoyed. Annoyed that he had been called "Blaine Warbler" twice in one day when Sam and Mike didn't even consider the option of calling him that. He already missed their company.


	12. M for Playlist

_ Lemons and summertime_

_ Lemons and summertime_

_ And apples…_

_ Cinnamon. _

Blaine couldn't get the taste out of his memory. Never before had he had such a dream that was filled with so much feeling, taste, and texture. Not even his dreams of Sunshine, which were more frequent since his break up with Kurt, contained vivid details.

Normally his dreams would replace the taste of Michael's lips with the taste of Kurt, something that Blaine was familiar with. It seemed that his imagination had reached new levels when it came to his dreams of Mike Chang and it scared him. He wasn't ready to grow that attached when he knew that the very idea was hopeless.

He didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing that Mike spent the rest of the week performing on and off communication with him. On one day Mike would respond with a single word response to Blaine's attempt to start a conversation, but then the next day Mike would respond or bother to start a conversation himself.

Mike Chang was confusing again, his flighty actions showing inconstancies with everything the two of them had established. The lack of continuity pained Blaine a little more than he would admit to even himself.

Blaine at first sanctioned this stand-offish behavior as a good thing. Blaine felt the seriousness of what was first deemed as a rebound crush becoming something much more than that. But he also abhorred it. He realized after his first decision about the situation that it was more of a hindrance than anything. His dreams and thoughts were more focused around Mike. Blaine wondered what Mike was doing, what he was thinking, and why he was being so distant. He also tasted lemons and cinnamon apples in his dreams though the tastes did not last on his tongue like the first time he dreamt of them.

Like the crazy and "jumping-to-the-wrong-conclusions-to-save-his-own-heart boy he was, Blaine had chalked all of the reality of his "dream" to his susceptibility to imagine things with great detail. Like Sunshine. Sunshine was an imaginary friend he remembered like a real friend. The kiss with Mike was a dream that he had while he was still half awake and so all of the smells of the Chang residence had been provoking texture and taste. He was very much a skeptic of reality, turning logic into illogical with one stream of thought.

Sometimes he would dare to dream that Mike felt the same attraction. That he possibly felt the tension every time their shoulders brushed, or their eyes met. He was on one of these crack-day dreams when he decided to text Mike a couple of days before the trip.

**-Is it cool if I invite Kurt?- **

** -Are you sure you want to do that?-**

** -Of course! Kurt is my friend!-**

** -Blaine, he is your ex that you clearly aren't over. If you are thinking about getting back together with him I don't think a road trip is your best bet.-**

Blaine allowed himself to think for a moment that Michael was jealous but quickly shoved the hope aside and realized that Mike was probably just concerned about how Blaine would feel about his ex coming along.

**-What makes you think that?-**

** -He can come if he can contribute.-**

** -Okay.-**

That was the longest conversation the two of them had had since Blaine went to Kurt's house.

The latter was no help at all; though he claimed he wanted their friendship back he was mostly unresponsive. Whenever the two of them had time to talk, Kurt would be distracted by his phone.

Kurt Hummel had made a habit of plugging his phone into charge every afternoon and every night before bed, making sure never to be away from it as well. When Blaine had asked him about this curious habit Kurt shrugged it off and muttered about beating a Tetris record.

_I guess Tetris is funny if he laughs at it all the time. _

It was when Blaine had to beg Kurt to go the road trip with them that he was certain something was up with Kurt and his Tetris playing ways. After Kurt did his usual criticizing remark about Blaine's new hairstyle (_"Seriously Blaine, I don't know why you have suddenly decided that you like to wear your hair like some hippie person that showers regularly.") _Blaine dived right into the subject.

"I can't charge my phone in the car!"

"Kurt, you could just not use your phone that much and that battery will last longer. "_Common sense, Kurt. Common sense._

"But-"

"I'm sure whoever this Tetris person is will be fine if you don't text them every second."

"Tetris will be upset if I spend time like that with you, my ex-boyfriend. Tetris seems like the jealous type."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing and seeing: The little excited crack in Kurt's voice when he mentioned the possibility of jealousy and the way he blushed deep red. Kurt Hummel had a boyfriend.

"Tetris can join us."

Kurt's face went from rosy to pale in an instant and his reply was a very curt shake of the head.

"Fine, let's cut through all the Tetris talk okay?" Blaine felt incredibly awkward now, talking to his ex about the latter's new boyfriend. "You have a boyfriend don't you?"

"No! Not my boyfriend." And again, to Blaine's surprise, Kurt went timid. His eye-line went straight to the carpet beneath their feet. "We both decided that it was too soon to jump into anything like that."

"As in he is a closest case?"

"Yes and no. He claims that he is ready but…" Kurt trailed off and shrugged, his eyes not looking at Blaine and instead finding interest in his bedroom window.

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that."

Blaine decided to let it slide.

"I hope you will some day. So will you come?"

Kurt hesitated, taking a short step back and shaking his head. He opened his mouth to respond but a small chime came from his phone, which was in his hand as usual.

"Kurt Hummel," Blaine said loudly, causing Kurt to fumble and drop his phone. "I need you to go on this trip with me.

"Why, why do you need me there?" Kurt shouted just as loud.

"So Michael can see that I am completely over you!"

They were both quiet after that, the echo of their shouting still remaining in the air. Kurt's eyes were wide and his mouth was dropped open in awe. A second later his mouth closed in a smug smile.

"No." Blaine stated flatly, his face going as expressionless as he could get it to be.

"You like-"

"No"

"Mike Cha-"

"Don't, just don't." Hearing someone else say something so true, though a little bit understated, about him was making it all final and unchangeable for him. "He's straight."

"Oh Blaine, nothing is impossible when it comes to lo-"

"It _is_ impossible," Blaine said in a tone barely above a whisper. All of his emotions seemed to have drained from his body, leaving him numb, as the cold slap of reality hit him. "I can't believe in fairy tales, Kurt. That method has already failed me too many times. " Blaine sighed and closed his eyes. He pictured a laughing Sunshine, the sun caught in his black hair and the smell of wild flowers surrounding him.

"You really like him, don't you?" Kurt said in an equally quiet voice.

"Honestly?" Blaine looked up at Kurt, already begging for an apology for what he was about to say. "Ever since I have met him he has been this little post-it note stuck to the back of my mind. Something about him just stuck out to me. I think I've always liked him a little more than reasonable." He sighed and retreated to the edge of Kurt's bed. "Ever since I was ten years old I dreamed of the boy that I wanted to be with and…" Blaine used the edge of his sleeve to wipe away a tear, "I think it's everything going on right now that has got me focusing on the doomed unrequited crush I have for Michael Chang. He just seems so familiar to me, like he is designed after that boy I dreamed up."

"Well-"

"But how much do I even know about him? I've spent so much time with him and I don't even know his favorite color." Blaine folded his arms and pouted. "I'm very confused."

Kurt's phone chimed again, but he didn't move to check it. Instead Blaine felt the mattress next to him move as Kurt sat next to him. "You remind me of me. My entire sophomore year was spent being in love with a boy I hardly knew. I even went and got our parents together out of the hope that he would fall in love with me, like some cheesy romantic novel."

"Finn?" Blaine blurted out when he made the connection. "He doesn't seem like your type."

"No Blaine," Kurt said with a smirk as he patted his friend on the back. "You're not my type."

"Oh gee, thanks!" Blaine rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheeks again, his lips tugging up in a little smile.

"My point is," Kurt stopped patting his shoulder and let his hand rest there as a sign of comfort. "Get to know the boy. You never know, he might be a closet case"

"Michael? I doubt he would hide something that important."

"He does have amazing color coordination skills."

"He _did_ have a girlfriend."

"A girlfriend who is so obvious a slasher."

"Hmm?"

"A girl that likes slash, you know? Guy on guy action." Kurt chuckled and a little blush showed in his cheek as he leaned back on his hands. "She asked me to make out with him."

Blaine's mouth dropped and he slowly turned his head to stare at Kurt. "And?"

"Oh, I said no of course," Kurt replied simply, waving his hand with nonchalance.

"How could you do that? Was Michael willing to do it? How could you pass that up?" He couldn't pin point what he was more aggravated about: that Kurt had the chance to tell him what Mike tasted like but passed it up or the Tina never considered him an option. Thought his attraction to Michael wasn't purely sexual attraction he had his urges that stirred in him ever since he saw Mike bend back until his shoulders touched the ground. _So god damn flexible. _

"I wasn't going to have my first kiss be shared with my friend's boyfriend!"

Blaine flinched, knowing how bad it was to be called "My friend's boyfriend" or even worse: "Kurt's boyfriend." Like that defined who he was and his name was nothing but mindless trivia in Kurt Hummel's life.

"But he was willing to do it?"

"I don't know," Kurt sniffed. "I didn't ask. Mike really isn't my type."

"Of course he isn't."

"Smart, really smart. He is good looking enou-"

"You can't deny that."

"-But I can't get with a guy who is just so…brainy."

Blaine found himself rolling his eyes again, though it did gladden him that Kurt wasn't someone else who saw the value of Mike. His own thoughts about how special Mike was felt private and personal to him. "You realize how shallow that is right?"

"Says the guy who sang at the gap to a guy he went on two coffee dates with."

"That's not the point," Blaine said hurriedly. " Mike is more than just smart and, believe it or not, the fact that he is a bit intellectual doesn't mean he will treat you or make you feel stupid. He can tease but he isn't snarky or pretentious."

"Like you?"

"And you."

"My superiority is well supported," Kurt placed his hands in his lap and raised his head high.

"Kurt," Blaine said with an annoyed groan. "Say you'll come with us?"

After a pause Kurt nodded. "It's not just going to be the four of us right?"

"Tina is coming and maybe Mercedes."

"Aha!"Kurt grinned. "That's nice; you're all inviting your exes!"

"Oh yes, this is a "come-back-to-me-and-see-how-wonderful-I-am" kind of road top. We schemed it together the way you three obviously schemed to break up with us around the same time. If our seduction doesn't work we are starting a band called "The Ex-Boyfriends." I have a feeling we're going to make it big."

Kurt squinted his eyes and raised an eyebrow, his chin rising and proving his obvious skepticism.

"Wit and sarcasm, skills I am still developing."

Kurt hummed a response of understanding and leaned down to pick his phone back up, thus ending the discussion.

()

Blaine had managed to sneak into his house before they were about to leave, making sure to grab enough clothing, leave a note for his mother, and take a certain book of fairytales away with him.

He had also found himself inviting another friend whom had just had a break-up fight with his girlfriend. Wes wasn't exactly anyone's ideal road trip companion, but Blaine felt pity for his friend and asked for permission to invite him as well.

And so Wes, Blaine, and Kurt waited at the Hummel-Hudson home for the other three to come, Mercedes having decided to skip out on the "hell ride!"

Mike drove up to the house driving a large, white van, Sam sitting in the passenger seat with a big, excited grin on his face. Tina was sitting in the seat behind them, her arms folded and a glare set for Wes.

"You didn't tell me that she was coming," Wes hissed angrily.

"Oh really?" Blaine said, smirking.

"It must have slipped our minds," Kurt nudged Wes and chuckled lightly. "Come on, Wes."

Sam and Mike clamored out of the van and hurried up the walk to assist the three of them with their bags.

Blaine felt his stomach flip around as Mike glanced up at him while he lifted one of Kurt's many suitcases up. The glance, though brief, had hope stir within him. As soon as Mike turned away the hope dissipated. It seemed as if Mike was back to his old ways; being a distant friend.

"Who is driving this disaster first," Kurt said after he directed Sam toward his other suitcase.

"That would be me," Mike replied with a small smile and a quiet voice as he reached for Blaine's duffle bag.

"No, I got that," Blaine stated just as quietly and reached down to pick it up. Their hands met and they both fumbled over the handle until Mike's hand was closed over Blaine's. "I got it," Blaine repeated, not daring to look up out of fear that Mike would see how much their touching was affecting him; the coarseness of Mike's palms and yet the softness of his fingers fully engulfing Blaine's hand and sending a sort of eager yearning though his stomach.

"You don't know where to put it," Mike replied, a hint of his teasing tone returning.

"Then you should show me," Blaine raised his eyebrow expectantly as he finally looked up at Mike.

Mike nodded and moved his hand away. Blaine followed him to the back of the van and helped pushed the bag into the back.

"That wasn't hard," Blaine smacked his hands together and turned to walk back. Before he could get far Mike had a hand on his shoulder and was turning him around. The warmth of his grip on Blaine's shoulder was so familiar. He felt dragged back into his dream for a second, expecting a "surprising" kiss before he could stop himself.

"Did you need a bag to keep up front with you?" Mike's words were fuzzy at best as Blaine licked his lips, remembering the lemon, and cinnamon apple taste that he had conjured up. It wasn't until Mike shook Blaine's shoulder did he jump back into reality.

"Um…I'll probably be sitting near the back anyway," he gulped and moved himself out of Mike's grip. "Thank you though," he forced a grin and backed away before turning around completely, walking back to Kurt and a sulking Wes.

"We'll stop by a gas station before leaving Lima," Mike explained to the rest of the group as he put the van into drive. "So you guys can pick up snacks and stuff."

"Guys and girl!" Tina announced, raising a gloved hand with pride.

"Tina and her men," Sam called back in a laughing tone.

"I'm not her ma-"

"Shut up, Wes," Blaine and Kurt hissed before Wes could finish his bitter muttering.

"As the only girl of this group of rebellious road-tripping teenagers I request-no-I demand that this row of seats in the middle of the van belongs to me and me alone. And I get my own bed," Tina's hand formed into a fist, as if she were trying to express her superiority.

"Mercedes didn't come, but her diva drama sure did," Kurt said in an obvious stage whisper.

"I heard that!" The gloved fingers snapped. "I'm going to give you all hell!"

"Sounds like fun," Blaine muttered, not in the mood for playful banter. Most of his attention was pulled by Mike sitting in the driver's seat, his arm stretched while his fingers fiddled with the AC. Blaine could see a white chord coming out of his pocket and extending toward his ears. Glancing up to the review mirror, Blaine saw Mike's look of concentration as he listened to his iPod. His lips were moving silently as his eyes searched from car to car in front of the van.

_I can't believe he is doing Spanish homework. _Finding himself as increasingly annoyed with Mike, Blaine rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the window next to him. He wanted to shout at Mike, not just because he was doing homework, but also because of the way he had treated Blaine since he had stayed the night at the Chang-Evan's residence.

He had half a mind to lighten his confused load by shouting at Mike until he got answers and when they pulled up the gas station he was in that mindset. But he stopped himself; knowing it wouldn't be the best way to start a trip.

As Blaine filled a cup with coffee he couldn't help but watch where Mike went. He stared out of the corner of his eye while Mike looked carelessly through the section of audio books near the front counter.

Blaine made his way over and inconspicuously paid for his coffee before turning to Mike. "I doubt you'll find Spanish 101 in there." He quipped as he stepped around the other side of the audio book rack.

"Good thing I'm not looking for it then," Mike shifted his gaze to the other end of the shelf, Blaine followed, determined to continue conversation.

"What are you looking for?"

"Nothing, just browsing, killing time while everyone else does whatever they need to do. Sammy is taking a few minutes to smoke behind the store as well."

Blaine peered out of the gas station windows before taking a drink of his cold and bitter coffee. Sam was already heading toward the van. Kurt and Tina were leaning against the van and discussing something while Blaine could see the outline of Wes' stiff hair through the window showing that he had remained in the van.

"I didn't know that he smoked."

"Blame my father, who has been known to smoke every now and again," Mike's voice was leveled and lacking his normal cracking of good-humor as he continued to flip through the CDs. "He preaches but he doesn't practice."

"I think a lot of people do that."

"Never said they didn't."

"Snippy much?"

"Sorry. Stressed." Mike looked up at Blaine and flashed an apologetic smile before looking back down. Blaine, eager to have a little more time alone with Mike before he realized that everyone else was ready, decided to pick up a random case and read it aloud:

_"A young woman finds herself trapped in the mental prison of her love for an older man. Will she ever escape her unrequited love for her master until his wife is deceased? Or will she quicken the process herself."_

"Sounds like badly written fan fiction."

"Sounds like heterosexual nonsense!" Blaine said with a flip of his hand before putting the book back down.

Silence followed after that and Blaine, losing his grin quickly, leaned forward on the shelf and muttered. "Everyone is done now."

Mike looked up again, meeting Blaine's gaze and not looking back at the van to confirm Blaine's words. "I know, I'm still looking," he smiled and flipped over a few more cases. The warmth of friendship was returning to Mike's eyes. _You are so confusing, Michael. _"Your hair…"

"I actually like it this way," Blaine said proudly and ran a hand over the top of his curls, though they were still stiff with a little bit of hair gel that he applied that morning.

"Kurt isn't giving you any trouble about it?"

Blaine was about to open his mouth to respond but Mike cut him off.

"I'm done," Mike stated, putting the last case down. "Did you get everything you needed?" He could feel Mike's eyes scanning over him. Blaine gestured to his bland coffee.

"Uh…yeah, gas station coffee," Blaine said with a frown as he swished the cup around. To Blaine the drink sloshing around in its cup sounded as bitter as the drink tasted, each tilt to the side making a dull splash against the sides of the cup.

"It even sounds bland." Mike said with a light laugh.

Blaine looked up at him, his mouth parting in slight awe. "Yeah, exactly."

When they approached the van Blaine was ready to climb into his seat only to see Sam in it, talking animatedly to Kurt about something that the latter was only feigning interest in.

"Sam, it's time to go," Mike called as he pulled his seat belt on.

"No!" Kurt yelped as Sam started to stand up. "Stay back here. You can tell me more about the Avatar language."

Blaine glared at Kurt and defiantly turned to sit next to Tina. She stuck her foot out over the seats next to her and shook her head. "Girls only, Blaine."

"Michael," Blaine said with a sigh, he could feel heat burning the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. "Can I sit up there with you?"

"Absolutely," Mike said after a beat of silence through-out the van.

Blaine grudgingly stepped out of the van and reentered the front seat.

The two of them sat in silence, secluded in their own box in the front of the van and completely closed off from the others. _Who even builds a car like this? _Blaine thought to himself as he looked back over the joined front seats. The back of the van had two sections. One was occupied totally by Tina and took most of the width of the car, leaving a little walk way to the side so there was room to get to the back seat, where Sam, Kurt, and Wes now sat.

"Where did you get the van?" Blaine asked as he leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling.

"My mom," Mike smiled calmly and pulled down the visor to block the morning sun. "She convinced her boss to let her borrow the company van. She kind of left out the part that her son would be taking it." He chuckled and put a finger up to his mouth to signify that his words should be kept secret.

Blaine nodded. "Do you have this tendency to be rebellious too?" He grinned over at his front seat partner. The latter's response was a little chuckle and a wink.

He looked away to hide his blush and lowered himself so the only thing in his view was the glove box and airbag in front. He studied the grey, bumpy texture in front of him with determination. But something else caught his eye as he was about to study the clasp of the glove box. A very smug Kurt was watching them, a teasing smile growing as he realized that Blaine had caught him. He sent one of his flashy winks to Blaine before looking back at Sam.

Blaine's eyes darted over to Mike, who seemed to jerk his head to look out the driver's side window just in time. _Did he see that? Oh god, he probably suspects that I have a crush on him now. Oh god, oh god, oh god._

"Kurt…he is just a tease," Blaine muttered pathetically. He instantly regretted saying those words. "I mean…" _Not that I'm trying to hide anything from you either. Why did I just say that? He'll just get more suspicious about my feelings for him_

"I guess you're just easy."

"Excuse me?" Blaine said loudly so the rest of the group went quiet to see what the sudden outburst was about.

"To tease," Mike said in a low voice. "You're just easy to tease," He smiled over at Blaine, though the smile was clearly forced and tight-lipped.

The atmosphere shifted them back into silence

"Can we get some music here?" Tina shouted as she threw a piece of paper from her sketch book up to the front seat.

Mike fumbled and shoved his iPod over to Blaine. "There is a cord in the glove box that hooks it up to the sound system in here." He mumbled, his mood obviously not improved by Tina's diva attitude, though the simple smile on her face proved that she was just joking around.

Blaine leaned over to plug in the iPod and whispered. "You know she is just kidding right?"

"I know," Mike stated; his eyes fixed in a glare as he looked at the road ahead. Blaine rolled his eyes and looked over the settings for the stereo, not quite sure what he was supposed to do. After a few moments Mike's hand had lightly pushed his shoulder back and started fiddling with the right knobs and buttons. "That should work."

With an audible 'hmmph' Blaine pulled the iPod and searched through the wide variety of Spanish audio textbooks and music. He finally came across something he was sure Tina would like.

_Boys and girls of every age_

_ Wouldn't you like to see something strange?_

A loud squeal came from behind them. Blaine turned around to see that Tina was clapping her hands enthusiastically. Sam had a smile on his face and was singing along already while Kurt and Wes just looked confused.

_Come with us and you will see_

_ This, our town of Halloween_

"It's not even Octobe-"

"Shut up, Wes!"

_This is Halloween, this is Halloween_

_ Pumpkins scream in the dead of night_

"This is September!"

"You think you're clever, Wes. But you aren't."

The rest of the song continued like this: the bickering between Tina and Wes, the confusion of Kurt, and the goofy, loud singing of Sam. Blaine enjoyed every moment of it, laughing almost the entire time. He would dare to take a look at Mike every now and then to see that the music and opportunity to laugh at Wes and Tina's feud did not lighten Mike's eyes or give him a smile.

As the next track started Blaine lost his happy feelings, seeing that Mike's weren't existent. He was angry at Mike for bringing him down and angry at himself for letting it get him down. He wanted to shout again. He wanted to punch Michael in the arm. _Or smack him…yeah smack him for having Nightmare Before Christmas on his iPod._

Blaine looked down at the sleek green iPod –_is green his favorite color then?- _and glared at it, taking all of his angry thoughts out on it, like it was telepathic object that could read his thoughts and transfer them to Mike next time he dared to listen to his Spanish homework.

He looked up at the stereo system, ready to give it the same mental treatment, but saw something interesting. There were three sets of volume control above the hook-up for the iPod, all three of them were turned up to the same setting but he noticed that each one had a small label over it: Back, Front, Master. _Back seat, front seat, master volume. See Mike? I'm not completely stupid when it comes to your precious tech shit. _

Without really thinking he reached forward and moved the 'front' dial until it was turned all the way down and the front seat was spared from the loud blaring speakers. The music was still playing in the back of the van but the sound seemed somewhat weak to the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

"Michael?"

"What?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

Pause.

"What do you mean?"

_Breathe in and breathe out, Blaine._

"I really don't like the way you are treating me," Blaine finally looked up at Mike. The latter was still staring at the road ahead but his hands were moving over the steering wheel in light enough motions that the van didn't jerk around under his nervous twitching.

"I'm no-"

"Don't lie to me Michael. First you act all friendly and happy when I go to you and Sam for help and then you pretty much put me on the back shelf when I go to see Kurt. Hell, you didn't even ignore me that much when we were only sort of friends," Blaine looked up at the rearview mirror to see that Kurt was trying to look at them. He quickly knocked the mirror up so it was facing the ceiling. "I'm sick of this back and forth with you."

"I-"

"It's pretty ridiculous that we have such a promising rela-friendship and every time I feel like we are finally going to cross that 'now-leaving-awkward-town' bridge you go and push it back somehow. Or am I the one pushing back?"

"I don't think-"

"And don't give the bullshit about you being 'shy' this time, because we have known each other for a while now and that won't work for currency."

"It's-"

"And I really just-"_want to be close to you. Get over you._ "-want to be your friend. So will you please tell me if I am doing anything wrong so I can fix it?"

Blaine had tried to keep his voice low as he spoke, not wanting the rest of the group to hear his teenage angst story. He glanced back to see that the four of them seemed too distracted by the music to understand what was going on in the front seat.

"Blaine," Mike started with a sigh. "I'm upset that you invited Kurt."

He didn't think that he could suffer whiplash from turning his head quickly until he whipped his head around to stare at Mike. "Why?" _Oh my god, you're jealous! Please say you are jealous. _His heart was still pounding in his ears, though this was not accompanied by the clammy and pale face of confrontation. He could feel his face redden as he waited for Mike's answer.

"This is a trip for friends and teenage rebellion, like one of those classic 90s movies, not for getting back together with an ex. You know that never works out that way."

"Oh," Blaine pushed himself back in his seat. It was a splash of reality in the face awake him from the hope of jealousy and he mentally kicked himself for getting them so high, even if it was just for a few seconds. "But you started this whole thing before I even thought about inviting Kurt."

"I didn't want you going over to his house, I didn't think you would be able to handle it," Mike let out a big sigh and muttered his next sentence. "It's clear you aren't over him and I'm just trying to protect you."

Blaine felt his anger returning. "There it is again, Michael. What makes you think I am "clearly"not over, Kurt." He furrowed his eyebrows and stared over at his "conversational" partner.

"Noth-"

"I'm sick of this, Michael."

"You were muttering his name in your sleep, okay? I heard you." Mike wasn't looking at him. In fact his head was turned away completely. Blaine assumed this was because he felt embarrassed for having heard Blaine's sleepy mutterings.

"Why would I do that?" Blaine asked more to himself than to Mike.

"Great, now you are going to have some life changing realization that you should keep pursuing Kurt. I knew I shouldn't ha-"

"Shut up. I told you I am over him. I'm completely over him. I guess," Blaine shrugged and mimicked Michael by looking out his own window, "it was just familiar." He placed a finger over his own lips and closed his eyes, remembering the lemon apple taste. His finger traced up to his cheek to feel the warmth of Sunshine's kiss again.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Blaine grinned over at Mike. "Kurt even told me that I was never his type. No way am I chasing after that." He laughed loudly and his heart warmed as Mike laughed along with him.

"He doesn't know what he is missing then."

_Well, what does that mean?_ Blaine decided to let the obvious compliment go and reached to turn up the volume again, only to find that Mike's hand was reaching for the same dial. They laughed and swatted at each other's hands until Mike became the victor and turned up the dial. The mood was much lighter and though Blaine still felt all of his secret feelings for Mike choking him, there was now a little more room to breathe.

()

After they had listened to _Nightmare Before Christmas_ five times over, Tina finally gave up on the soundtrack and asked for some different music.

Blaine obliged her request and scrolled through Mike's selection again, every second or so he would glance up at Mike to see if he was still smiling. Mike did seem unable to stop doing just that, he even tapped the wheel though the music had stopped playing. Blaine chuckled and looked back down at the options.

Finding the Album and Artists too selective, Blaine decided to take a look at Mike's playlists. Instead of finding a wide selection there was a single playlist titled simply with the letter "M."

"Oooo! What's this?" Blaine said loudly, holding up the iPod above the head so the group could see what he was talking about. "A mysterious M playlist."

"Um...no-"Mike made a grab at the iPod but Blaine was already pressing the play button.

_When the moon fell in love with the sun_

"It's just a playlist I made the other day. It doesn't have any theme or anything."

"We get it, Mike."

_All was golden in the sky_

_ All was golden when the day met the night._

Blaine wasn't too worried about Mike's babbling on the subject. Instead he focused on the words of song. They struck at him for some reason. Perhaps it was the way it all sounded so peaceful and gave him just the right feeling in his stomach, like a happy memory returning and reminding him of all the good and gracious things in life. He leaned back and continued to listen in peace.

The lead singer's voice was strong and smooth, his pop-rock tones blending so well with the plethora of sounds coming from the background. It all gave him the feeling of being in summer and in love, mutual love.

_When the sun found the moon_

_ She was drinking tea in a garden_

_ Under the green umbrella trees_

_ In the middle of summer._

_ When the moon found the sun_

_ He looked like he was barely hanging on_

_ But her eyes saved his life_

_ In the middle of summer_

"_Summer_," Mike sang quietly, his eyes still fixed on the road. Blaine smiled over at him and nodded his head slowly to the beat.

The next song was quite different. The woman's voice was accented with a hint of defeat and hopelessness. Her words full of unrequited and pushed-aside love.

_So you're gone and I'm haunted_

_ And I bet you are just fine_

_ Did I make it easy to walk_

_ Right in and out of my life? _

_ Goodbye, my almost lover_

_ Goodbye, my hopeless dream_

_ I'm trying not to think about you_

_ Why can't you just let me be?_

"Wow, Mike. That is super depressing," Tina said with a frown.

"It's _A Fine Frenzy_. I'm a fan. Deal with it."

As the songs continued Blaine found that they did have a theme, unlike Mike had told them, all of these songs were about love, whether unrequited, abandoned, or returned. Each song seemed to dig deeper and deeper into the issues of love and it made Blaine feel dramatically wistful. He would have considered it more dramatic if Kurt's cell phone wasn't constantly going off.

The weather seemed to join along in the melancholy as clouds started to build over them. The rain started to pour just as "Some Where Only We Know" came on and once again, Mike moved to change it only to have his hand smacked away by Blaine.

It would have struck Blaine as odd that Mike would have this song of all songs on his playlist if he hadn't been already distracted by the raindrops hitting against the windows and the memories of Sunshine flooding back to him again like they always did when he heard the song.

"I'm hungry!" Sam roared with a yawn, as he stretched his arms out wide.

"We'll get food when we get to Pennsylvania, which will be soon," Mike replied.

Soon was an understatement. Not long after Mike's proclamation they found themselves quite stuck in a long line of cars.

"I think it's a toll road," Mike said, sitting up in his seat to see past the cars. "Yes, this is the toll road, I didn't know that it would be so full."

Flashing lights gave away that the toll booths ahead of them were busied with cops. _I hope we didn't just run into a weather car wreck…or something worse._ Blaine tired to peer past the cars in front of them to get a better view as well.

He was about to ask Mike if he could see anything at all when a strange gurgling noise came from the car speakers.

_ God damn you half-Japanese girls you-_

"Oh my god! Restart the song! I love this song!"

"Ugh. My phone is about to die. Does anyone have a car charger?"

"Shush, Kurt. Just listen."

Mike shook his head and laughed as he reached over and started the song over again for his friend. Sam unbuckled himself and pushed his way up to the front behind Blaine and Mike. He reached frantically over the seat to turn it up all the way and, much to Mike's laughing protest, started the song over again for the third time.

To Blaine's pleasure Mike started to move as Sam started to sing, each drumbeat getting its own move from the former.

_El scorcho!_

_God damn you half-Japanese girls_

_ You do it to me every time_

_ Oh, the red head said you shred the cello_

_ And I'm jello, baby_

_ But you won't talk, won't look, won't think of me_

_ I'm the epitome of public enemy_

_ Why you wanna go and do me like that?_

Mike's smile grew as he sang the higher pitches of the next line and pushed open his door.

_Come down on the street and dance with me_

He rolled out of the door and popped back up quickly, getting weird looks from the drivers around them. Sam quickly followed suit and opened up the door next to him and toppled out with less grace. Then, to everyone's surprise, Wes scrambled out as well. He was singing the song at the top of his longs along with Mike and Sam.

Mike swung himself on the door and looked at Blaine.

_I asked you to go to the Green day concert _

_ You said you never heard of them_

_ How cool is that?_

"Come on, guys, the cars aren't even moving!"

"It's raining!"

"Clothes aren't meant to be used and abused!"

Blaine didn't need telling twice as he pushed open his own door and found himself facing a car of girls, all giggling ferociously at Sam, who was now playing a drumbeat on the hood of the van. Mike danced in the little space he had between cars, getting a few cat calls from the friendlier car drivers. Blaine, enjoying the mood, was simply leaning against his car door, unsure about the lyrics so not daring to risk it.

Soon Tina clamored out and started to sing as well. Kurt, however, remained near the edge of the car, bouncing his head back and forth, smiling and enjoying the wild performance before his eyes.

Mike came around next to him. He was still dancing with his own original style when he leaned up against the car next to Blaine, looking at him with a sort of puppy-dog expression.

_And then my heart _(He placed a hand over his chest and began to move his fingers to the beat of the music, mimicking a beating heart.) _stopped_ (his fingers stopped moving instantly) _listening to Cio-Cio San._

_ Fall in love all over again._ (He began to fall but stopped himself with a twirl, causing the girls to roll down the windows and cheer.)

Mike disappeared behind the van, leaving Blaine with a huge grin and a blush until his senses came back to him. Before he could fully regain composure and before he could glare at Kurt for being so smug, Mike was back.

_How stupid is it? I can't talk about it_

_ I got a sing about it and make a record of my heart _(He grabbed Blaine's hand and yanked him forward so his hand was pressed over the left side of Mike's chest)

_How stupid is it? _(He pushed Blaine back gently and turned to Kurt, who was biting down on his knuckles trying not to laugh too hard. Mike flipped over so his back was arched so his face was upside-down. He held his hands up and pointed to one of his wrists.)

_Won't you gimmie a minute. (_With a grin, Mike continued to sing as he spun back to Blaine.)

_Just come up to me and say hello_ (Mike made a quick gesture of ripping his own heart out and shoving into Blaine's face.) _to my heart._

"Hello heart," Blaine said with sarcasm. Mike beamed and was on the move again.

_How stupid is it? For all I know you want me to_

_ And maybe you just don't know what to do_

Blaine watched eagerly as Mike danced in all the possible places he could, gathering so much attention that other passengers were joining in with the singing, random dancing, and honking of their horns.

Sam came around then, his eyes looking to Mike and his smile wide as he tried to pull some of his own cheesy dance moves. Mike glanced over at Sam and shook his head, as if he were about to speak. But the movement of the cars next to him stopped his potential speech.

"Cars are moving!" Mike called out, twirling his way back to the driver's seat. Everyone ran back to their cars.

When Blaine and Mike were in their seats again Mike continued to sing:

_I wish I could get my head out of the sand_

_ 'Cause I think we'd make a good team_

_ And you would keep my fingernails clean _(He held up his fingers and glanced at them for a second before looking up at Blaine with an adorable determined look on his face_.) but that's just a stupid dream that I won't realize._

'_Cause I can't even look in your eyes without shaking_ (he began to shake violently, a dopey expression slapped over his face.) _and I ain't faking_.

(He pointed a finger at his chest and stopped moving.) _I'll bring home the turkey if _(He moved his finger to poke at Blaine's chest) _if you bring home the bacon._

Blaine felt a grin stuck to his face as Mike moved his finger and started to focus on the road again.

_I'm a lot like you so please, hello, I'm here, I'm waiting_

_ I think I'd be good for you and you'd be good for me._

They repeated the song several times as they approached the toll booth at a slow and steady pace. Blaine was still living in the clouds, his eyes closed and his feet moving to the beat of the song. His brain hadn't fully rationalized everything that had just happened.

Though his clothes were soaked and the smell of wet clothing surrounded the air in the van, the atmosphere was like taking in drinks of warm milky, hot chocolate and smelling cinnamon and lemons.

Even Tina and Wes, who had mysteriously disappeared during their little charade, were actually talking to each other. Tina even bothered to turn in her seat to face him.

"I can't believe we just did that," Sam said as he stretched again. His blonde hair was flopped over his eyes, leaving him with just a mouth and nose.

"I can't believe we don't do that all time."

"Yes we do."

"Oh right, glee club."

**Author's Note: **

**Songs Mentioned:**

**When the Day Met the Night-Panic at the Disco**

**Almost Lover- A Fine Frenzy**

**El Scorcho-Weezer**


	13. Moon, Sun, The Boy, and The Reaper

When they reached the next exit, there was a unanimous decision that everyone should change their clothes so the smell of wet clothing didn't forever stink up the borrowed van.

"You stink," Mike said as he lightly pushed Blaine on the shoulder.

"Not as bad as you." Blaine returned with a grin.

"Oh my god!" Tina shouted from behind them. "Are you two ten?"

Mike turned around in his seat and stuck his tongue out at Tina and then at Blaine. He rolled out of the van again and twirled the keys as he stepped toward the back of van. Blaine followed him, wanting to be one of the first to get better clothing.

"First of all," Mike started as he pulled out a thin bag. "Umbrella," he handed it over to Blaine, who took it gratefully.

Blaine didn't know what he was stepping into when he opened the umbrella, until it was too late and the damage was done. The rest of the group seemed to be drawn in by the bright yellow color of the umbrella over Blaine's head and it pulled them all in.

Kurt was the first to climb underneath, followed by Tina, and then Wes and Sam. Blaine was squished against the handle as the four of them huddled around him. "Seriously? How am I supposed to get my clothes?"

"I'll pick some out for you, Blaine."

He would not stand for it. He handed the handle of the umbrella over to Sam and shoved his way through Tina and Kurt. And again he found himself caught in the crossfire of Kurt Hummel: The Inappropriate Match Maker, as hands pushed him forward.

He ended up in stumbling forward into Mike and they both toppled over onto the pavement. Blaine found himself on top of Mike. His knees were digging into the rocks on either side of the latter's body and his hands were prickling with pain from the tiny materials on the ground beneath them as he held himself above a very shocked Michael.

"Kurt," Blaine growled and moved to stand up, finding his actions counter-balanced by the slickness of the pavement. His hands lost their stability and he fell forward even more; onto Mike's chest. A low 'oof!' escaped Mike's mouth and Blaine mumbled a string of apologies as Sam helped him up quickly. "Thank you, Sam." Blaine shrugged Sam's hands off his shoulders, feeling strange; Sam's grip was rough, jerky, and a little more forceful than Blaine had expected.

"Now I definitely need to change," Mike said with a small laugh as he turned around and showed the back of his shirt, now covered in mud. Blaine was blushing too hard to laugh or really think about anything but the warmth of Mike's body under his hips and torso, and the way it caused Blaine's entire body to squirm internally, yearning to feel it all again.

Blaine glared at Kurt as they walked into the gas station. Kurt ignored him with zeal, his nose up high and proud as he waddled with the other three under the umbrella. The rain wasn't as strong anymore so Mike and Blaine didn't really have to worry about their fresh clothes getting wet and Kurt didn't have to worry about Blaine purposefully wiping the mud on his hands on his designer raincoat; which was something Blaine had planned on doing, but failed to do when he discovered that the other three were surrounding Kurt.

He felt his urges grow as he watched Mike tenderly pull his mud-stained shirt over his shoulders so the filth didn't spread to his hair. The action revealed smooth, toned skin, muscles, strong shoulder blades and arms. Blaine swallowed and looked away, his eyes flicking to Kurt, who was attempting the feat of putting one shirt on without having to take the other off.

Kurt's face was tinged pink as he determinedly looked down at his clothing, and a shy kind of smile was on his lips.

Blaine glanced around at the other boys; Sam had his back turned, but Blaine could see from the back of his neck was red as if he were also blushing; Wes, however, had decided to change in a bathroom stall; Mike was now kicking off his slacks, revealing very long legs and green boxers.

He only had a glance before he turned away completely, but the image of Mike's entire body sans clothing was burnt into Blaine's mind. The thinness of his legs and how the muscles in them flexed as he kicked away his pants, the wet imprint left from his clothing on his chest giving it a sort of god-send shimmering effect, and the tightness of his boxe—_Oh god, they weren't tight. He just __**fits**__ them so well._

Blaine's eyes concentrated on his cardigan as he fumbled to try and pull it off. He was already way behind the others in getting changed, and he didn't want them to suspect that he just came there to leer. He tried to think about different things. But unfortunately they all dragged him back to thoughts of a certain area of Mike Chang, now covered in green and black checkered patterns. His thoughts reflected back to a time when Kurt had shown him Brittany's YouTube show, and Tina revealed the truth about Asian men.

_God. Fuck. Why did you look? Why do you live on this planet, Blaine? Why are you allowed to think?_

Because his drifting and self-scorning thoughts, Blaine was the last one to head out toward the van. And much to his displeasure, Sam had taken his seat back up front with Mike. Blaine tried not to show how much this bothered him.

"Blaine," Mike called out as Blaine made his way to the back of the van. Just as he turned around to see what Mike wanted, a plastic package hit him lightly in the face. He spluttered in response and glared over at Mike. "What? It's lunch? I figured since you were so busy getting dressed, I would get something for you."

Blaine flushed and muttered a thank you as he reached down to retrieve the package. It was a bag of trail mix, which would probably settle his slight hunger. He was about to turn around when another plastic bag hit him in the face.

"DO YOU EVER FEEL LIKE A PLASTIC BA—"

"Not funny, Kurt." Blaine muttered as he reached down to pick up the next one. He felt a grin come into place as he looked down a small bag of coffee mix. "Whoa, thank you, Michael." He looked up at Mike and saw that the smile was returned.

"You know," Wes stated as Blaine settled between him and Kurt. "According to _The Google,_ this trip should only take us about ten hours each way give or take an hour. We could be there and back in a day."

"_Blaine, you didn't tell us your friend was going to be a major buzz kill_," Sam replied with a very Puck-ish tone, causing Tina and Blaine to laugh loudly.

"Wes, we're taking the long way. We're actually stopping in another hour; taking our precious time on our way there," Mike explained as he stopped Sam from returning to his impressions. A smile was on his face; he was amused but trying not to show it. Blaine wished that he could spark such amusement from Mike like Sam always seemed to do.

"Where are we stopping?" Kurt asked. For the first time on this trip, he seemed truly wary.

"Wherever we are in an hour, Kurt," Sam poked his head over the back of his seat. His large lips were parted into a huge grin. "It's called spontaneity," He said after seeing Kurt make a displeased face.

"What? I can be spontaneous!" This response caused Blaine to hold back a laugh. Kurt elbowed him the stomach, this action instantly earning a straight face from Blaine. "I can."

"Kurt, next to Wes, you are the most organized person I know."

"Hey! I can on this trip, didn't I?" Wes stated on Blaine's other side.

"Because your ex-girlfriend cancelled all of your plans this week by breaking up with you."

Wes leaned back in his seat and pouted. A look of dramatic sadness was expressed on his face as he said, "I was going to take her to Six Flags," his voice mimicked the tone of impassioned man doomed to be loveless.

"You had all of the rides listed," Blaine said with a raised eyebrow and doubtful smile, "in order. You approximated the amount of time each line would take. You even scheduled break time for eating."

Wes didn't reply. Instead he directed his eyes out the window, his wistful manner still apparent.

"That's Wes," Kurt said as he stared down at his phone. "I am a lot more spontaneous than him."

"Oh please!" Sam called back. "I saw your luggage. You labeled your "Night Bag" and "Day Bag". Heaven forbid you lose one of them. I can see it now: _Oh my Gaga! What am I going to do without my nightly moisturizers_?" He continued with an excellent interpretation of Kurt.

"I protest! When have you ever heard me say 'Oh my Gaga'? That is so incredibly tacky," Kurt said with a flick of his fingers.

"Still doesn't cancel out that you wouldn't live without routine."

Kurt shrugged, assuming an unaffected attitude, and looked back down at his phone.

The three in the back seat remained silent for most of the time while the others chatted away, Tina having her arms folded over the back of the joined front seat as she spoke to the other two.

Blaine was far too distracted counting how many times Mike's eyes met his in the rear view mirror. (_12+1, "Maybe-he-was-just-looking-at-the-road")._ Kurt was glued to his phone, his fingers making _click click_ noises against the keys of his phone. Wes had dazed off, his eyes fixed to a scratch on the window next to him, and occasionally shifting to the length of black and blue hair swaying a few seats in front of them.

The "M" playlist was starting to repeat itself. The song about golden skies and the moon and sun falling in love was back, and Blaine found himself again drawn into its folk and rock tones.

Blaine closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the soft, grey fabric of his seat. Images flashed through his closed eyelids like rewinds of old movies and orange-tinted slideshows. He listened to each verse and couldn't help but conjure up fake memories of Sunshine throwing petals onto the glossy lake near the cabins of the camp. He pictured the two of them scratching their knees as they ran past low, prickly branches in the woods deep behind the mess hall.

He brought it all back to himself; pebbles skimming over the small amount of water that they had in the depths of trees; the brush of lips against skin; the splash of old shoes in the water; the smooth surface of undiscovered rocks of all different shades.

The slowing down of the van shifted his thoughts to a single solution that Michael really wasn't that bad of driver as he first surmised.

"What is this?" Blaine opened his eyes and peered over at Kurt. The latter was looking out the window, obviously distracted by something in his eye-line. Blaine looked from behind him and saw that they were parked in front of a small building with purple curtains and multicolored, glittering beads were hanging from the threshold of the door. He turned and glanced out the opposite window to see nothing but a few buildings and a diner. They seemed to be parked in the middle of a small shopping district. _It kind of feels like we have ended up in a small town with nothing but old-fashioned restaurants and tourist attractions. _

"Tina wanted to stop here."

"Oh please!" Tina turned around to face the other three. "I have always wanted to go to a real psychic!" This proclamation earned a groan of displeasure from the two people sitting on either side of Blaine.

"Come on," Blaine said, sitting up eagerly in his seat. "It will be an experience you will never forget."

"Also it will be money I will never get back!"

"Oh pfft! I will pay for a group session or something," Tina said in an offhand tone as she opened the door and wafted out with an air of superiority. "Come my sexy male harem, I am in need of your assistance."

It felt like stepping in the perfume and cologne aisle at a surplus store. Every artificial scent known to man seemed to be wafting around in the small and dark waiting room. Blaine resisted the urge to bury his nose into his own shirt to keep from breathing in the toxic cologne. Instead, he bore it with watering eyes and exchanged a look with Mike who seemed to be on board the unspoken idea of turning around and leaving.

Tina, unfortunately, looked as spry as ever as she sat herself down on one of the velvety chairs facing the entrance into the psychic's room. They all watched as Wes sat by her and put his head in his hands. Blaine could hear him muttering something with the words "experience" and "it's worth it".

They weren't in the toxic room for long when a young man stepped out from behind the curtains, his smile was soothing and his eyes scanned everyone in the room with critique and interest. "Welcome," his voice was surprisingly warm for such appraising eyes. "My name is Sebastian," his smile grew into a very charming grin and Blaine felt a flutter of excitement. He knew it was just a typical reaction to a cute guy but he couldn't help but return the smile.

"Sebastian?" Sam asked, looking a little skeptical. Blaine glanced over at Mike, who was more interested in tugging at the sleeves of his warm blue cardigan.

Sebastian sat down next to an apprehensive Wes and beamed at the rest of them. "My aunt is your gateway drug to the unknown."

This got a chuckle out of some of them.

"She's your aunt? It must be nice to have a constant insight into this unknown that you speak of," Kurt said with apathy as he continued to click away at his phone, too distracted by "Tetris" to even bother hiding his dislike of the whole idea._ Like he would hide it anyway._

"On the contrary. I would rather not know what's in store for me. It would spoil the fun," Sebastian replied with a wink directed at, to everyone's surprise, Sam Evans.

_Gay, gay, gay. _Blaine thought as Sam looked down at his worn tennis shoes, obviously embarrassed. What Blaine then noticed was how it affected Mike. He looked annoyed as he glanced at Sam and then over at Sebastian. The latter was still eyeing Sam with great interest.

This moment brought the same question that filled his thoughts every time he came across moments like this; _what exactly is the relationship between Sam Evans and Michael Chang?_

All thoughts of this suave, new gentleman were driven out by a low rumbling jealousy inside of him.

If Sam and Mike did romantically like each other, it would mean that _he _wasn't an option even if Mike wasn't straight. It stirred him the wrong way; thinking about the possibility of his two friends getting together and leaving him to pine after Mike with ridiculous and dramatic fervor.

He paused his thoughts and tried to think logically. Mike dated Tina. Sam dated Mercedes. They weren't gay. He rolled his eyes and looked away from the two of them. He was seeing love when there was only friendship again. He always did that, even when he watched movies.

But after all of this, he still came to the same conclusion; Mike Chang was not interested in him. He would still have to go through the drama of getting over it. But crawling out of the mud of unrequited love was no easy task. In fact, Blaine enjoyed playing around in this metaphorical mud. He reveled in the sweet pain it brought him. The dramatics of it all gave him a sort of invigorating depression. It was the happiness of misery Blaine had once read in one of those old romantic novels he took from his mother's small section of the library (all of the other books were of law and religion.)

With that final thought, Blaine sighed and turned his attention back to Sebastian. The latter was now telling Sam and Mike about his time spent in Paris. And though the other two listeners looked almost annoyed Blaine was impressed.

He wanted that kind of life; the kind of life where one could just go from place to place, to do thrilling things like meeting a stranger. Perhaps he wouldn't be a stranger at all, maybe the boyish looks of Sunshine would be perpetuated in the "stranger", and said stranger would take Blaine up into his strong and well-toned arms and give him a kiss. Maybe this stranger would recognize Blaine instantly, and get down on his knees to propose a romantic elopement, and then a hot and long lasting intertwining of limbs and sweat in the throes of a unpredicted yet passionate lust.

Blaine felt his face get suddenly hot and he looked around with guilt. He was grateful that no one could read his thoughts. He also felt awkward that he had once again turned his imaginary childhood friend into a mysterious lover. He chalked it all up to the fact that he was now a teenager with hormones, no longer just looking for friendship but for someone to cling and whisper to, someone to bite and scratch, someone to feel that amazing connection with. Not only the sexual part but in every aspect of a relationship.

A smile came back to his face accompanied by that same blush.

"So Sebastian," Mike finally spoke up, "you have been to Paris, Germany, and India—"

"Italy as well."

"—My question is; have you ever been to Tennessee?" Mike coughed back a laugh as Sam elbowed him in the side. Blaine didn't get the joke at all. But only Mike and Sam seemed to understand what Mike was talking about.

"I'm afraid not, Michael."

"Mike," Mike said, his face suddenly serious.

"What?"

"Only three people can call me Michael. Two of them are my parents and the third is," Mike reached behind Sam and poked Blaine in the cheek, "this guy."

"Lucky guy," Sebastian said with disinterest.

Blaine might have been annoyed by Sebastian's indifference but he felt all too high on the fact that Mike gave him such an honor. He tried to ignore how uplifted he was by the words, but he couldn't.

Sebastian led them into a smaller room with cloth dangling from the walls and a more calming smell of incense drifting around them, almost clouding out the perfumes of the lobby. There were four chairs set around a small table; one of them looking more stable and throne-like than the others. Blaine assumed that this was the chair the Psychic would be sitting in.

"Three at a time," Sebastian chimed as he led the last of them into the room. Tina jumped in response and launched herself forward and into the chair directly facing the larger chair. She leaned into the table excitedly before looking back at her other friends with pleading gestures.

Blaine felt himself being pushed forward for a second time that day. He stumbled forward and glared back at a chuckling Kurt Hummel. Kurt merely shrugged in response and went back to his phone. Blaine frowned and sat down next to Tina. He had originally planned on sitting with Sam and Mike at the table, wanting eagerly to know what the Psychic would say to the latter.

Wes took the free seat and they sat in silence until Kurt's phone chimed, breaking the calming atmosphere.

"Can't you turn that off?"

"No."

"You better not take that to the table," Sebastian put a finger up and shook it slightly. "That would be super disrespectful."

Kurt blanched and then glared at Sebastian before sliding his phone back open to check for another message, as if to show how rebellious he could be in front of someone who could care less. Sebastian had already turned back to Sam and Mike to smile at them before leaving behind a pair of curtains that Blaine originally thought was just there to cover the wall like the others.

A moment went by before Sebastian entered again, this time followed by a middle-aged woman in a light blue robe. Her features were nothing like Blaine had expected. He thought that she was going to be old and worn-looking with shaky hands and chapped lips, but instead she was brown-haired and blue-eyed and quite stunning. Her nephew was stunning as well but he had a little less kindness in his brown eyes.

Blaine glanced between the two relatives and couldn't help but wonder if he looked anything like his aunt. He remembered her strong and shy beauty, concealed under the pain of constant headaches, and the way her feet moved on the ground as if everything were a dance. A sad sort of smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he thought about one of the last things she said to him: _"…Sunshine is always with you."_

What did she mean by that? That his own need for romantics and fantasy was something that would always be with him? He didn't necessarily think that was a good thing. He had screwed up so many times because of this. He saw clear blue, refreshing water when there was actually mud. In fact, the boy standing in the back of the room with Sam and Kurt was the only one that Blaine refused to try and see anything more with; he was determined not to fool himself again.

The lady sat down in front of them and pulled her robe tighter around her before she leaned forward and took Tina's hand into hers, smiling warmly as she finally spoke. "You are a gifted child; please don't hide away your talents anymore."

Tina nodded solemnly and Wes bit down on his lips and shook his head, obviously trying not to say anything that was on his mind at the moment. Of course the words were a bit too vague and could honestly be used on anyone, but there was nothing wrong with giving a person a little bit of a nudge toward their dream, and if they had to hear it from a person with a connection to the "beyond", then that was just fine with Blaine.

"Today, I feel that it is important for me to use the cards. Sebby, my nephew, grab my cards for me please." There were chuckles from the back of the room and Blaine could distinctly hear Sebastian telling the other three to shut up. "Be nice to our guests, Sebby."

"Yes ma'am," Sebastian replied with displeasure before he exited through the curtains again. He returned with a silk bag and set it down in front of his aunt, still looking upset with her.

His aunt paid no mind to him as she pulled a deck of tall, thick cards from the bag. She ran her hands over the cards, closing her eyes and humming slightly. Suddenly she grabbed Tina's hand and held it a little bit above the cards. "Can you feel the energy? Today is a good day for the cards."

Tina nodded again, her face lighting up with interest and her mouth wide open as she stared at the lady spreading the cards out and pulling them back together into their pile. It was oddly intense as they all watched her move the cards in and out of their unity with such ease and quickness that the worn edges of them didn't seem to touch.

Finally she pulled three cards out of the middle of the pile and threw them lightly in front of Tina. The cards remained face down and were awkwardly laid out in front of a very awed Tina.

The woman moved her hands around as if they were merely boneless and carried by invisible wings. She turned the first card and muttered something to herself as her blue eyes scanned over the picture it presented.

"You have had a plain and subtle past with only a few excitements," she grabbed Tina's hand and held the palm upwards. "Great love, great mistake, and great regret. The three things that your life has found as changing," she placed her other hand over Tina's and smiled warmly. "It is time to let them go, dear. They have changed you but they do not define you.

She flipped over the second card and continued, "Confusion, hate, and lust, the past will come back to you and change your life again." At this Tina blushed and ducked her head down in obvious embarrassment. Blaine would be embarrassed too if he was told that he was lustful, even though he knew he was some of the time.

And then the third card was flipped again. "Individuality, great love again, family, and a real purpose."

"The same great love?" Tina squeaked, something was hopeful in her glance and Blaine felt an odd jealousy return. She wasn't talking about Mike, was she? From what he knew, Mike was Tina's first love. Did Tina hope for that again? Even after the things she said to break it off with him?

The lady looked warily at Tina and arched an eyebrow. She didn't answer and Tina bowed her head back down.

Blaine was surprised when the woman's soft hand reached in front of him. He looked up at her and saw that she was staring directly at him. Her blue eyes watched him carefully while her fingers moved for a gesture for him to take her hands. Blaine obeyed hesitantly and pulled his hands up from his lap and placed them on top of hers.

"Oh nice!"

"What?"

"Your hands are very smooth, what kind of lotion do you use?" Blaine flushed and spluttered as he tried to remember the brand he had used that morning. He was about to tell her when she interrupted him by pulling his hands up to her mouth and pressing a soft kiss to his palm. She glanced back up at him and smiled sweetly. "Softer to his mouth than to his fingers, no?"

Blaine swallowed hard and pulled his hands away quickly. "Um…yeah," he managed to say, his voice cracking. She smiled again at him and pulled her hands back as well, returning them to her cards.

She did not throw out three cards this time; instead she pulled four of them out and set them neatly in a line before him. "Flip these over."

He did as he was told and flipped one of them over. The card was an abstract sort of picture of a faceless human looking up at a large moon, their body naked and their arms outstretched toward the glowing sphere. Blaine held in a gasp. The moon. Moonbeam. It was him.

"Is that—?"

"Yes," she said before he could fully ask, "next one."

Blaine reached for the next card and turned it over. It was a young, again faceless, boy. He was holding a single cup and a cap with a long blue feather sticking out of the edge of it. Blaine didn't understand it like he did with the last one. He looked up at her again, confused.

She took the card and placed it next to the moon card. "Belongs there," she pulled away and smiled again.

"What does it mean?"

"Secrets and romance," she said offhandedly. "Turn the next one, Blaine."

Blaine didn't want to know how she knew his name, perhaps Sebastian told her. He sighed and turned over the last card, already having a gut feeling of what it was going to be. Sure enough there was a bright orange, pink and yellow card before his eyes. The sun was taking up most of the card's space, but underneath was the same person from the moon card, worshiping the sun as well. He didn't need to ask what it meant.

Finally, Blaine lifted up the fourth card. His stomach burned with the heat of displeasure and he felt like his heart had stopped from the shock of turning over the dark and foreboding card. Human skulls were piled up on the ground while the Reaper stood above them with his hand stretched out forward, beckoning the card holder to joining him. He set the card down in front of him, his face straight in a nonplussed expression. The Psychic leaned over the table and picked up the card, a complacent smile on her face as she placed it on top of the faceless boy with the cup.

He looked up at her with question, but she only smiled and tapped the card as if it were a good one. He didn't think it was a good one at all.

He felt a shiver go through him as he stared down at the two contrasting cards and the boy and the Reaper in the middle of them. The only thing that woke him from the trance the four cards were giving him was another scoff from Wes. He looked up to see that Tina was watching intently while Wes was staring up at the ceiling, obviously annoyed.

Wes was still annoyed when they left the building; mostly because her fortune did not bare any good news and she flat out told him that he needed to stop being so uptight for that future of bad news to change. Of course, Wes

stubbornly disagreed with her.

Blaine didn't know what to think. He only saw the images of the four cards given to him and then the misfortune that she predicted for Michael, he was given ten cards. Of course, his was not the saddest. Sam Evans, the boy without a home, was supposed to face much more loss in his life. He wasn't sure if he believed everything that was said in that room, but he couldn't get rid of his belief that something about his session was undeniably honest. How could she have known about their nicknames for each other? How else could the cards have told him about him and his relationship with his imaginary friend?

Was that really what the cards meant? Maybe she was just bullshitting it all and letting him read the cards because she didn't know what it meant. Maybe because his mind was a constant mixture of dreams, performing, Sunshine, and now one Michael Chang, he automatically read too much into something.

But he couldn't shake the shiver and eeriness of it all.

They decided to visit the diner across from their location. To Kurt's annoyance Mike and Sam invited Sebastian out for lunch _("Because the lunch that we had was hardly anything but gas station food._") Sebastian seemed pleased to accompany a group of people he didn't know. Blaine figured this was because the former wasn't that fond of his aunt or her line of work.

"When I was in Paris—" Sebastian started off as they took a booth in the diner, but he was interrupted by Wes, who just shook his head. Sebastian seemed to get the hint and sent another wink to Wes in his now self-induced silence.

Kurt slid into his booth, squishing Blaine against Mike, and Mike against Sam. It was hardly a good fit for the group, but no one seemed to be complaining about the tiny booth. Especially the new guy, who was positively beaming, his straight teeth forming into a friendly, yet mischief-layered smile.

Blaine could see a spark of experience in Sebastian's eyes and he couldn't help but yearn to have that own spark inside of him. He felt the envy from earlier crawl back into him as he watched Sebastian turn his charm on for the waitress. Blaine himself had been good at that kind of charm, but never good enough the way Sebastian was. He always felt too guilty when he tried it. So maybe that was not part of Sebastian that Blaine wanted to be. Yes, he could live without needing to be an emotional conman.

After a little while, when their breakfast arrived, the seven of them decided to split up to different tables since they didn't have room for all of their plates. And so Blaine sat with Wes, Tina and Kurt while Sebastian hoarded the attention of Sam and Mike at a table behind them.

Their talk was minimal as Tina and Wes still had a lingering tension over them that prevented them from saying anything of real quality to each other or anyone around them; and Kurt was too distracted by his phone to care that no conversation was occurring. Blaine ended up sighing and dully munching on his sandwich as he listened to Sebastian explain a time he took the wrong gondola in Venice and ended up lost until his parents found him again; he was ten at the time.

Blaine remembered when he was ten and ran his hand up to his now almost-free curls. He remembered declaring that he would never let his curls be like this again when Tina said it was what attracted the girls to him.

"You know, Tina," Blaine said, shifting a little to rest his elbow on the table. "When you said that my curls attracted all of the girls at camp was when I decided I wouldn't let my hair down like that again." He took another bite of his food and looked up at the diner lights above him, their blue and red shade swaying slightly from the heater above them.

"Funny what a little alcohol can do huh, Blaine?" Kurt said, his eyes now focusing on his plain salad _("I can't believe that they don't have an Orange Pecan Salad here!"_). Blaine ignored him.

"Funny that you remember that," Tina said, her tone warm.

"It was a pivotal moment," Blaine nodded heavily and then chuckled.

"You know what I remember?" Tina's eyes turned over to Wes but then quickly back to Blaine as she leaned forward onto the table. "When I colored that moon on your forehead. I was so obsessed with my sharpies."

Blaine blushed. He remembered that too.

"I think I colored on everything I owned," Tina continued.

"And me."

"Well I only colored on people that I considered to be worthy. You and that other boy."

"Other boy?" Blaine asked with a laugh. His laugh stopped instantly when he tried to think of anyone else that she had decided to mark.

He could only think of one person.

He pictured the boy's face with the sun colored in oranges, reds, yellows on his cheek and how his skin felt under Blaine's fingertips as tears and colors mixed together and the moon blurred away the details of his frown lines turning into a faint smile. Blaine felt excitement build up in him at the possibility of it being real. And his nose started to burn with the feeling of tears starting to build up inside of him.

"Yeah, that one kid you spent so much time with. I don't think I ever caught his actual name because he never spoke to me. I called him Wallflower Boy."

In the far distance, muffled by his own thoughts, Blaine heard a small crash of a dish falling to floor. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming about the crash or not but he heard it echoing behind him. The echo of shattering plates and utensils were followed by words:

"Mike, what the hell?"

"I-I…sorry, I didn't know-I just-"

"Don't worry, I'll pay for it."


	14. Boys With Crushes

It wasn't world spinning revelations or choirs singing in the background. The only thing it felt like was spinning nausea in his stomach. He felt feverish and sick, his brain jumping around to different thoughts so quickly that it didn't feel like he was thinking at all.

Because everyone was paying attention to Mike and the shattered drinking glass in front of him, no one noticed the white knuckles that Blaine had, blood drained from by gripping onto the edge of the table in front of him.

After some of them headed to the counter of the diner (Blaine could not pay attention to faces), he stood up, his legs like feeble twigs under his body, and slowly walked into the bathroom. Luckily, the room was not far from his table and the nearest stall was not occupied.

_Why am I feeling this way?_Was his body rejecting the reality of Sunshine after so many years of repressing the idea? His eyes burning with hot tears told him he was sad, while his head and non-stop fluttering in his stomach told him he was sick. However, his heart told him that he was incredibly happy and excited as it thudded inside of him. It seemed to pulse throughout his entire body in that moment, telling him that he was still alive and that he still had feelings. Like his thoughts, his feelings were so many they felt like one bundle of numbness.

The only thing he knew for sure was that all of this was going to have one combined result. As he gripped onto the sides of the porcelain toilet seat, Blaine Anderson knew that he was going to hurl.

"Blaine?" A voice echoed behind him. "Are you okay?"

He was about to attempt speech but his lunch reached his throat before words could and he was disposing of the club sandwich (or what looked like a blended version of his club sandwich) into the bowl below him.

"Well that certainly answers my question."

Blaine closed his eyes and rested his head against the stall, blindly grabbing at the toilet paper roll across from him. He wiped at his mouth and nose, wishing the burning acidic smell would leave him so it could stop contributing to everything else he was feeling.

He imagined if emotions were something to be bought and stored and then injected, like drugs, he would be suffering from an overdose of them. His body seemed to recognize this as an actual overdose and seemed to be trying to rid him of the excess feeling. But throwing up did not stop the tidal wave of feelings pushing through him.

"I feel like a fucking pregnant woman," Blaine moaned in agony.

"You have no idea how a pregnant woman feels, Blaine," Kurt replied room behind the stall door. Blaine kicked at the door and grumbled.

"Okay fine, I feel like there are a bunch of green, gooey, goblins fighting an army of care bears in my stomach."

"Surprisingly enough that makes more sense than the pregnancy analogy; it also tells me that you are clearly not okay," Kurt said the last of it in a softer and more concerned tone. Blaine opened his eyes, touched to see that Kurt was sitting on the floor next to the stall, his designer jeans making willing contact with a public bathroom floor.

Blaine smiled a little and sniffed as he scooted closer to his friend, the stall door standing between them.

"Food poisoning?" Kurt tried to hide his concern with a casual tone but Blaine was not swayed. He knew that his old friend cared about him.

"Kurt," Blaine said with a choked sigh as he tried to control the lump of emotion still rolling inside of him, "I'm glad that you're my friend."

Silence occurred after that, later accompanied by small sniff. Kurt reached his hand under the stall and clumsily grabbed at Blaine's hand. It felt nice to hold hands with Kurt; in fact, it felt strangely better than before to feel Kurt's soft grip around his palm now that they were just friends and it didn't have to feel mandatory.

"It was always supposed to be like this, Blaine."

"I know."

"And I'm sorry."

"Just promise that next time you won't fall in love for the sake of falling in love, okay?"

"I promise."

That small moment seemed to solidify everything in him. Though he was still weak from the throwing up, and it still felt like a goblin and care bear battle inside of him, Blaine felt sure that Kurt was his friend and that Kurt cared about him. There was no confusion between them. It was just a simple understanding that they were the kind of friends that would sit on disgusting bathroom floors for each other.

Blaine was also sure of another thing. After having the awakening of Kurt's friendship, the emotions didn't clear out of him. Instead, they seemed to be clearer inside of him, as if they were all logically aligned in his brain and were no longer muddled and disastrous. It was through this mental sorting Blaine realized that he _needed_ to find Sunshine.

He had Kurt's hand in his, right then and knowing that their friendship pulled though the drama of relationship gave him a strange boost of confidence. He could find Sunshine and he would.

The confidence crashed when the door to the bathroom swung open and a familiar voice followed it. "Kurt? Is Blaine—"

"—he just got done throwing up his lunch," Kurt let go of Blaine's hand and moved to stand up.

Blaine watched warily as Mike's blue-checkered Polo sneakers appeared next to the stall. He smiled pathetically as he thought about those shoes. He remembered when he and Mike ended up kicking a rock back and forth while they waited for Sam to finish work; it was during their second awkward silence phase (the first one being after Mike had ran out of his house the first day they met.)

"Blaine?" The cracking of Mike's voice as he spoke caused a fresh batch of tears to erupt from Blaine; he was confused again. "Blaine? Let me help you," he heard Mike fumbling to get the door open and started to shake his head, still crying.

He only looked up when the flush of a toilet startled him. Mike Chang was standing above him, blue sneakers and all, with a very sad smile.

"How did you—"

"—climbed over," Mike crouched down so his knees were practically resting on Blaine's. Blaine felt like he was going to throw up again, his feelings almost resurfacing to his throat as he looked back at Mike. "Come here, I'll help you to the van and we'll take you to a motel where you can rest."

Panic surged through him and he made to stand up but was held back by a soft hand on his chest. "I have to get my phone," Blaine whined.

Mike rolled his eyes and reached his hand down to a certain area that Blaine felt the least comfortable with at the moment. His hand slipped into the pocket of Blaine's pants, earning a small shudder from the latter, and pulled out a phone. Mike placed the phone into Blaine's hands.

He then moved an arm under Blaine's and stood up with a grunt. Blaine lolled his head in response, giving Mike more weight to carry. Mike tugged at Blaine's hand so Blaine's arm was fully around Mike's broad shoulders.

"Okay Blaine," Mike grunted again, it was a nice sound to hear. "You really need to help me here unless you want the bridal style pick up."

Blaine almost took advantage of it but he wanted to use his phone and having both of his arms bundled up with the rest of his body in Mike's embrace would ultimately impede his progress. Blaine pushed himself up on his feet and gripped onto the collar of Mike's cardigan.

Another arm pushed under Blaine's free one as soon as they stepped out of that bathroom and Blaine recognized Sam's voice mumbling something to Mike.

It was the distant voices and the grip he could barely get on his phone that told him he was a lot weaker than he thought he was. _But I have to find him now._Tears started building up in his eyes again.

"Is it food poisoning?"

"I don't think it's food poisoning."

()

The rest of the night felt like a drugged-up horror story as Blaine kept waking up to the dim, flickering light of a darkened and musty room above him. Each flash acted as salvation from his emotional crash but also ended up making his eyes feel heavy.

It seemed like days of rest when it was only a few hours. Perhaps it was because of the ever-changing Mike Chang that stayed by his side but always seemed to be in a different position or spot in the hotel room. Sometimes he would be accompanied by another person. Sometimes Kurt would be sitting on the bed opposite of Blaine with his legs crossed and his phone out, but his eyes would be watery and worried. Other times Sam would be sitting with his back to Blaine and his hand resting awkwardly on Mike's shoulder.

When Blaine's eyes opened for the last time that night, Sam and Mike were both sitting with their backs to him. Mike's iPod was sitting between them and the two ear buds were shared by both of them. Mike was moving his head to the music with a sort of timid sway while Sam leaned back and clearly watched Mike.

Blaine smiled but didn't say anything as he watched the two friends sit there with the fuzzy sounds of distant music. Instead of interrupting them, Blaine turned and faced the ceiling. He needed to sort himself out before he could talk to anyone.

The light was less dramatic to him now that he was fully awake. In fact, the entire room looked more classy and up-to-date than when he first predicted. The bed beneath him was soft and comforting. He felt like he was lying on top of a cloud. I_f a cloud was as comfy as it looked and not made of water._His body sunk into the comforter and he was vaguely reminded of Mike's bed.

He breathed in and out quietly and tried to sort his emotions again, though all of them felt dim, as he was still slightly asleep and living in a dream state. Things that seemed to affect him the most were absorbing him in this state.

He remembered his father's face when he was leaving the house. The man looked almost hurt by his son's actions. _As if I shouldn't be upset that my dad thinks that I'm an abnormal human that should be corrected._ As much as he was supposed to be angered, he felt more upset than anything did. He wanted to have his father back. He wanted the man he knew before he admitted to wanting to hold hands with boys.

He missed his aunt and her beautifully aged face and her belief that fairy tales were real. The thought of the way they parted, with him kicking and screaming for her to hide him away rang through his mind.

Then his mind drifted off to other saddening things in his life and his eyes flicked over to Mike, who still had his back to him. It was like reliving the day they went to the bowling alley, when Blaine had watched that well-toned back lean up against the window with a red-checkered vest and suspenders. An ache went through him, telling him to crawl over to the next bed, wrap his arms around that torso, nuzzle his head between the shoulders and chin. It was another slap in the face knowing that it would probably freak Mike out if he did that.

All of these things seemed to add to the "sad" category of his feelings. _How pathetic is it that I need to sort these out to even think properly._

A small sigh escaped his lips and he rested his hands on his stomach, lacing his fingers together over the churning bundle of emotions. Rarely in his life did Blaine find it necessary to clear his mind and sort his emotions as he was doing in that moment. And never in his life was it this extreme.

He was also happy. The smiling face full of cheer and warm welcome flashed in his mind. Sunshine's dark, and slightly messy, hair acting as a shade over his laughing smile in the rising sunlight seemed more vivid in his mind than ever before. _And he was real. He__**is**__real!_Blaine had built his life around the self-forced belief that such a boy was merely of his own imagination. He felt angry with himself too, for not paying attention to his aunt and not believing in the fairy tale.

_Think of how much time would have been saved if I weren't so idiotic._

His annoyance with his own determination to not believe in happy endings with Sunshine clashed dramatically with the hope of finally being reunited with the latter. Both of these emotions pulsed through him as he considered them, burning his chest with warm anticipation.

Blaine glanced back over to Mike and Sam just in time to see the latter leaning in to whisper something into Mike's ear. Mike pulled away and looked Sam in the eye, an obvious look of surprise and amusement in his facial expression. He nudged Sam, shaking his head in disbelief, and picked up his iPod.

As Sam leaned back a little on the bed and turned his head toward Mike, something shifted in Blaine's senses again and he noticed the long, lingering stare that Mike was now getting from his best friend. Blaine sat up in shock, his hand pressing down on the soft comforter beneath him and keeping his actions quiet and unnoticeable. He knew that stare. He was the owner of that stare. If that stare were given a name, it would be named after him.

Blaine had used that lingering, lip biting look many a time on many a guy (Michael Chang being the most recent prey) and it was more than a surprise for him in his state to see Sam giving that unmistakable glance to Mike.

_It can't be—or maybe it can be? I need to stop making excuses for everything. I definitely just saw the "boy-with-a-crush" stare._Blaine didn't blame Sam. After being around Mike so much, sharing a room with him, and being dependent on him for comfort, friendship, and even spending money, it would be hard not to get a little crush on someone like Mike Chang, no matter how heterosexual the victim of those feelings was. Perhaps all the momentary suspicions that Blaine had had about the two of them were actually inspired by Sam's subtle hints of attraction toward Mike, and Blaine was only catching the reasons now that he was finally allowing himself to stick with some of his instincts.

He didn't know what to think or feel about this new discovery. Jealousy that Sam had so much the advantage and that he would easily be Mike's first choice? Irritation that he didn't spot the gay subtext earlier? All around shock that Sam never told him about his feelings? Blaine thought that they were close enough friends. _Though I haven't exactly told him my own feelings for Mike._

Blaine could pinpoint one feeling though; that feeling was pity. In reality Sam wouldn't be Mike's first choice and neither would Blaine because Mike Chang was straight. He never saw Mike cast that look toward another male and he was probably one of the only people that spent time checking for those things in Mike. Yes, Blaine was sure that if he dangled a half-naked, good-looking man in front of Mike's eyes, the latter would simply shrug and move on with his life as if nothing had happened. He wouldn't even freak out like a heterosexual male, offended that someone would try to make him gay; Blaine was sure of all of this.

He swung his legs off the bed, still being too quiet for the others to notice, and slid himself off the fluffy comforter. He smacked his lips together and nearly gagged again, the taste of his throw up was dried into his mouth. Blaine grumbled and stood up, his legs still a bit shaky, and then made his way to the bathroom.

"Blaine?"

"Don't talk to me. I just need to get cleaned up." Blaine explained as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

He went to the sink instantly and rinsed out his mouth with several splashes of water.

"Are you okay, Blaine?" Mike's voice echoed through the white painted door. "Do you need some help?"

"Not really up to having someone help me shower," Blaine said after washing his mouth out a fifth time.

"Don't do anything stupid," Sam replied with what was obviously an attempt at being good humored.

As the hot water ran down his back and dripped off his curls Blaine felt his feeling dim under each burning drop. He let out a relaxed breath as he rested his head against shower wall, his mind completely numbed by its hard and warm surface against his forehead. He slowly went back to his oldest comfort and started to hum.

The tune that escaped him was one that he wasn't very familiar with; it was only a song heard once in the car. But the song seemed to stick with the happier emotions he was feeling earlier and it reminded him of campfire smells and white petals. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the water made a trailing path down his cheek and over his throat.

"Golden in the sky…" _hmmmhmmmmhmm_"...Golden when the day met the night."

Immersing himself in the steam, the hot water pelting his hair and back, and the music caused his feet to tap against the tiles beneath him, splashing the thin layer of water to splash out and ripple. His smile grew wider as his humming proceeded into full singing of a rather different song.

_I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind_

Blaine laughed a little and picked up a tiny, hotel-room shampoo bottle to hold up to his mouth and sing to.

_Your sweet moonbeam, the smell of you in every single dream I dream_

_I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind_

Unfortunately, he knew the disadvantages of dancing in the shower so he refrained from doing the Warbler choreography as he continued to sing and think of the friend he was going to final find. It was amazing what a simple hot shower and some singing could do for him. What was most important to him was finding Sunshine. Everything else, though important, had to be dealt with later. And he was perfectly okay with that.

_Just in time, I'm so glad you have a one-track mind like me_

_You gave my life direction, a game show love connection we can't deny_

Blaine chuckled as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, his feet tapping in rhythm with his singing. He pulled another towel of the pole and ruffled his hair with it as he hummed some of the song.

_I'm so obsessed; my heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest_

_I believe in you, like a virgin, you're Madonna and I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind_

He did a little spin while taking the towel off his head and throwing it aside. He shook his hair so water splashed around him and laughed loudly.

When he opened the bathroom door he was surprised to see that the rest of the group was sitting the room all looking at him with the same confused expression. Blaine shifted awkwardly and gripped tighter to the edge of the towel around his waist, causing Tina snort back a laugh.

"I wasn't expecting a party," Blaine said quietly as he shuffled toward his bag that had been placed next to desk. "I'm going to get dressed now."

"Wait," Kurt held up his hand and stood up from the bed he was sitting crossed legged on. "We need to talk."

"While I'm naked?" Blaine asked, raising his eyebrows high with an exasperated smile on his face.

"Blaine, you just had what I like to call an "Emotional Breakdown". Trust me, I know what they look like and you just can't walk away without talking about it," Sam said as he leaned against the entertainment center next to Mike. Blaine felt his stomach churn a little at the sight but he stamped it out instantly and managed an even bigger smile.

"Sam is right, Blaine," Mike said, stepping toward him, "no one is buying that you are suddenly happy and sing-songy."

"Listen, I know a lot of things are kind of happening with me right now but I've decided to take things one at a time and that works for me," he shrugged and tugged a little at his towel, he did not feel comfortable with everyone staring at him and making him realize all the things he would have to deal with after finding Sunshine. "I'll just take some clothes and get changed in the bathroom."

When he was shut behind the bathroom door and the steam, still fresh from his hot shower, engulfed him he felt his forced grin relax into a smirk. _But dealing with all of these things with Sunshine at my side will be a lot easier._He breathed in and out and pressed a hand to his chest as he leaned against the door. It was a happy ache inside of him that caused him to do so and he ended up letting out a very quiet laugh.

()

"I just want to know what he is thinking," Mike confessed as he watched the grey debris flick from the end of Sam's cigarette. Sam placed the cigarette back between his lips and stared over at his friend, his eyes squinting as he observed him.

"Maybe you should ask him," he replied after a smooth stream of smoke escaped his mouth. Mike watched as the smoke circled upward into the air before disappearing completely.

"How?"

"Uh… _Blaine, what are you thinking_?" Sam let out a laugh after he finished putting on the perfect interpretation of Mike.

"I wish it was that easy."

"Dude, why _isn't _it that easy?" Mike glared over at Sam while the latter looked back with an exasperated, opened-mouthed stare. "Seriously, Mike. There are so many things that you could just tell him but instead you choose to be all secretive about it all. It's annoying, man."

Michael moved his head back to rest on the edge of the railing. They were sitting out on the balcony of their hotel room, waiting for Blaine to come back out of the restroom, with their feet hanging over the edge. He sighed and looked down at the ground below. The pool was below them and Mike was sure, for a fraction of a moment when his logic wasn't connected to his thoughts, that he could jump from the balcony and create a great splash.

He knew that jumping from the balcony either would end with him dead from a face plant into the pool floor or just extremely injured. He related this very much to his situation with Blaine. He knew that telling Blaine everything would end with Blaine either getting mad at him for not telling sooner or it would end not caring at all; he just didn't know which one would hurt more. Then there was the subject that even he was afraid to really talk about with anyone. He liked Blaine too much to talk to him about anything touching on feelings.

Mike still had that same fear that everything was going to blow up in his face and it wasn't going away.

"I know it's annoying," Mike said with a sigh. "I can't though. I need to wait."

"Wait for what?"

_That is a very good question. Wait for what? Wait for Blaine to grow an extra head and start spouting of Shakespeare? _Mike shook his head and glanced back over at his friend, chewing on his lip out of habit as he did so. He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and began to flip it over in his hands; he had to keep himself busy.

Sam returned the look and took another drag. Mike couldn't help but notice that Sam looked tired, his smooth face taking resemblance of a man so beaten down by the world that the childish sparkle that used to flash in his eyes had turned into dim flickers still making desperate attempts to brighten. Mike's heart ached for his friend in that instant and then he felt guilty for worrying about his own problems again.

"It's not important, Sammy," Mike said quietly as he looked back down at the pool.

"Come on, Mike," Sam replied, his voice annoyed; Mike hated to hear that tone from Sam. It made him feel like he was guilty of doing a selfish thing. "I've known you for long enough to know when something is stressing you out. You broke a fucking glass because Tina mentioned your childhood adventures. I may be dyslexic but that doesn't mean I'm an idiot. "

Mike felt like being that quiet child again. It seemed a lot easier in his mind.

"I don't want to talk about it," the truth was that he did want to talk about it. He wanted to tell Sam everything he felt and everything he was worried about. However, he knew how selfish he was being already and he didn't need to drag Sam into everything.

"You don't want to talk about how obviously in love you are?"

Mike nearly dropped his iPod.

"What? I don't—"

"I know you, Mike," Sam didn't look at him when he said this. Instead, he watched the end of his cigarette as he flicked away the dead paper on the end so it fell below them and into the light breeze. He brought it back to his mouth and took in another drag before speaking again, "I really do. In my almost two years of being your best friend, I have never seen you act the way you do around Blaine. Not even Tina."

Mike swallowed, unsure if love was really the right term. If he could identify it logically, he would call it obsession. There was a major difference between love and obsession and Mike was smart enough to know it. Love was when he would do anything to make someone happy; he would suffer and live lonely just for their happiness. Obsession, he couldn't let them be with anyone else.

After he kissed Blaine and tasted the warmth of coffee and mint in his mouth and Blaine muttered the one name that Michael didn't want to hear, his own jealousy made it quite clear that he didn't want Blaine to be happy with Kurt again. It marked him as jealous man with no motive but his own heart aching to push Blaine farther away and be irrationally mad at him.

Even though Blaine had since then reassured Mike that he wasn't intent on getting back with Kurt, Mike still wasn't sure. He had seen how Kurt had rushed to Blaine's side while he dealt with his shattered cup fiasco. He remembered their hands clasped together under the bathroom stall and his stomach twisted in unsettling dislike.

This was not love. This was something more dangerous than that.

At least that was what Mike decided to tell himself in that moment.

"I don't think you're right about that, Sammy Sam," Mike said in a dull tone as he looked down at his hands. The green skin of his iPod was surprisingly relaxing to watch flip from hand to hand. He could feel Sam's stare on him but did not look back at his friend. Instead, he observed a new occupant of the pool below them.

Sebastian was pulling off his top in a very slow and obviously teasing way. After tossing his shirt to the side, he looked up at the two of them and flashed a smile before waving. Mike waved back, his miffed and confused mood turning into an amused one. He glanced over at Sam to see that he was ducking his head down and that a tinge of pink was in his cheeks.

"He's cute, right?" Mike asked, nudging Sam teasingly.

Sam didn't respond with words, only with a quick glare before he sent an apathetic wave to the boy standing way below them.

"He was seriously checking you out the entire time, Sam. He was undressing you with his eyes," Mike leaned in and whispered into Sam's ear, his smile now wide and teasing.

"You're changing the subject."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"He's not my type, Mike. He is too sure of himself," Sam stuck out his tongue in disgust as he finished off his smoke and put it out on the black railing in front of him.

"Nothing wrong with a little confidence," Mike replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"There is when he is so over the top about it. It's obvious that he thinks seducing me will be a piece of cake when he doesn't even know I'm gay," Sam let out of scoff and shook his head, his hair shaking over his eyes.

Mike reached over without thinking, pushed some of Sam's hair away, and said, "You really need to cut this. My mom was lecturing me about it the other day, you know."

Before Sam could say anything in response, the balcony door slid open and Blaine Anderson walked out, his hair still curly and wet from his shower and an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"What are you guys doing?" He asked as he sat down next to Mike and peered over the railing.

Mike observed their new company carefully. Blaine looked a little different. It wasn't his curls or his T-shirt clinging to his still wet torso. It was something about his mouth. The way his lip was turned upward as if he had a secret that he wanted to tell everyone but wouldn't. His eyes flashed with that still unreadable emotion as the setting sun lit them. Mike could feel a layer of doubt and nervousness slowly peel away as he looked at Blaine.

"Just checking out the pool people," Mike said when he could manage to look away.

"I only see Sebastian."

"He is attractive right?"

Blaine's furrowed his brows and twitched his nose up in an adorable childish expression as he looked down at Sebastian, now applying lotion to his skin and glancing occasionally at the three of them.

"Yeah, he's pretty hot," Blaine admitted before shrugging and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Mike held back a laugh and resisted the urge to tease Blaine about finally being reunited with his phone. He also stopped himself from sighing in relief that Blaine was not ogling over Sebastian. "Need a gay's point of view or something?" Blaine asked as he concentrated on typing something into his phone.

"No, not really. I just needed someone to agree with me."

"You think he is attractive?" Blaine smiled, amused, and looked up at Mike for a second.

"Yeah, man," he looked back over at Sebastian and then over at Sam who was now looking up at the sky above them, purposefully ignoring Mike's hints. Mike would never reveal Sam's secret but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to try to leave perfect opportunities for him to come out. Talking about attractive men with another guy was certainly a way to hint an opening. "Sebastian is a total 10. Even his name is attractive if you get past the _Under the Sea_ part that is."

Blaine was silent for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed again and his bottom lip sucked inside of his mouth as he pondered.

"Are you trying to tell me that you think guys are attractive?"

Mike scoffed and lightly punched Blaine before answering, "I'm not blind, Blaine." He rolled his eyes and then continued. "Sebastian _is_ hot. Though I wouldn't really classify him as my type really," Mike pondered aloud as he watched Seb do a dive in to the pool. "He would probably do dirty things with you and then not call the next day. Maybe he is just waiting for the right guy, you know? Maybe someone that will give him the kind of chance to prove himself."

"Okay, what you are describing is one of the most over-used plots for a chick-flick movie ever," Sam groaned and put his head on the railing.

"I guess you're right? What do you think, Blaine?"

When he turned back to Blaine, he instantly thought that Blaine was having another attack. Blaine's face was completely pale and his eyes were focusing on the horizon.

"Blaine?" Mike asked, reaching a hand forward to push him a little.

"Dude, don't throw up again."

Blaine's eyes finally moved back to look at Mike. His pale expression quickly softened and he smiled a little bit.

"Michael, are you joking with me to lighten my mood? I'm fine."

"Okay, fine. Maybe Sebby is too much to handle?" Mike said calmly, holding up his hands so the two of them didn't get upset with him.

"You're serious, aren't you?" Blaine asked as he sat up some more, his phone completely disregarded now.

"Serious about?"

"You honestly find boys attractive?"

Mike rolled his eyes again, hating how everyone took the subject so intensely.

"Yeah, why?" He felt a shiver go through him as Blaine's eyes darkened in a very determined glare. "What?"

"I believe you broke a gay code of some kind, Mikey," Sam whispered into his ear.

"How come you didn't tell me?" Blaine finally asked, his eyes still flaming with anger.

Mike did not like this side of Blaine. He didn't like the obvious rage that was building in Blaine as he delayed his response to think of the right answer. But a very small part of him kind of wanted to see what would happen if he provoked Blaine, if he didn't answer directly. The thought of those hazel eyes glaring deeper at him, really staring at him and not passing him over as someone else in Blaine's life to look at.

"It's not exactly a secret, Blaine," Mike decided not to provoke him. "I just don't think it's that important."

"Not important? Your sexuality isn't important?" Blaine's voice had gotten more strained with each syllable. He was in obvious disbelief.

Mike licked at his lips and looked up at the sky, now growing quickly darker, before looking back down at Sam and then over to Blaine. He took in a large breath before speaking and revealing how irritating the subject was to him. "Blaine, you are gay right? Of course. Everyone knows that Blaine Anderson is gay. But what people seem to forget, what Blaine seems to forget sometimes, is that Blaine is also a really good singer, a person with a great smile, and a head of curls. He isn't_ just_ gay. The fact that he likes boys isn't who he is. That is just a very small thing about him. It doesn't change what books he reads, what shows he watches, or even what food he likes.

"What I am trying to say is that I'm not going to go around and announce that I identify as bisexual because that's not all I identify as. I'm a dancer, I'm a Doctor Who fan, and I'm also a pretty good cook if the occasion calls for it. But none of these things affect each other do they? I'm not going to use labels on myself because I already know that if I were to properly label myself, I would be covered in labels because I'm a lover of many things and a boy with many attributes, tastes, and little talents. I'm not defined by all of these things that people tend to think are so important.

"I'm not going to introduce myself as Michael Chang Jr.: Bisexual male. Because I seriously don't think it's that big of a deal. It's not a huge and important thing about me. It's not who I am, it's simply who I find myself attracted to. No matter how important the haters think it is I'm not going to let it affect me. In the end, it's between me and the person I am with at the time. And I hate that everyone spouts off about sexuality like it defines who a person is. I hate it."

Sam and Blaine stared as Mike finished his speech. It was quite clear that they were in shock that he had used so many words in one moment when he was usually both not conversational or even in cases, quiet. Mike felt his face getting suddenly hot from embarrassment.

After a long and awkward pause, the other two looked away. Blaine looked back down at his phone while Sam made to get another cigarette out of his package. Mike quickly smacked Sam's hand and shook his head warningly.

"So have you dated a guy?" Blaine asked, his eyes focused on his phone but his face was as red as Mike's felt.

"Once."

"Did you have sex?"

"Inappropriate, Blaine."

"Sorry."

"Who are you texting?"

"I'm not texting anyone, I'm trying to look something up," Blaine glanced back up at Mike but quickly looked down again. It was a nervous gesture. _Did I make him nervous? Did I scare him?_ "Actually, you could probably help me. What was the name of that camp that you and Tina worked at last summer?"

It was like his entire body was a fruit that was shriveling and drying up too quickly. He did not want to talk about Asian Camp with Blaine. Not yet. Not now. He needed to wait.

_Wait for what?_

"Why?"

"I'm trying to find someone."

Mike was about to ask who Blaine was looking for exactly when Sam called out. "Hey Kurt!"

Kurt was walking to the pool, and Mike assumed that had decided to join Sebastian now because the sun was no longer out and threatening to damage his skin. (He once gave Mike a two minute lecture on proper skin care because Mike's sun burnt and freckled nose one day during glee.) He looked up when his name was called out and waved back a little before turning to sit on one of the pool chairs. They watched as the Kurt pulled out his phone and began to text.

"Jesus, is he ever away from his phone?" Sam murmured and went to reach again for another cigarette, earning another slap on the hand from Mike. "Cut it out, Bisexual Man."

Mike glowered and took the pack entirely away from Sam. "Watch it, Trouty!"

"He is texting his boyfriend," Blaine said in a bland tone. Mike listened carefully for any trace of jealousy.

"Boyfriend?"

"Secret boyfriend. The guy isn't out of the closet yet," Blaine face was now lit by the luminescent glow of his cell phone, his eyes scanning the screen with a strange sort of hunger.

Mike's mind instantly jumped to the other boy sitting next to him and he glanced at Sam. Sam's response was a very small shake of the head and a kick to Mike's dangling foot. Mike kicked back before looking to Blaine again.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Just an old friend," Blaine mumbled, that tiny smile returning to his lips and sending a wild sort of yearning through Mike. "Maybe I should talk to Tina. She remembers him." Blaine's voice definitely went higher with excitement in his last words as he scooted back of the balcony. "I'll uh… I'll leave you two alone. See you." Blaine said, not taking his eyes away from the screen as he slid back into the hotel room.

Mike almost followed him but instead he stuck his hand into his pocket and gripped loosely around the old paper map he put together so long ago and breathed out a long sigh. He needed to wait.

_Wait for what?_

"You're an idiot, Mike."

"I know."


	15. Wingman

His eyes were sore from being open for too long. They felt weak and heavy and yet he couldn't control his own mind enough to close them and rest.

Blaine's mind was too full of thoughts and scenarios, each one building up to be more ridiculous and extravagant than the one before until he ended up imaging a teenage Sunshine riding a white horse and calling out for his Moonbeam. In this fantasy, Blaine found himself locked up in a tower, a very Rapunzel-ish setting, with only a few days before he would die of thirst, his only hope being his one true love. After the two of them were reunited, and Blaine was suddenly back in full health, they would spend days making love to each other.

Of course Blaine was actually starting to drift off to sleep when these fantasies were taking place so his dreams were blended in with his thoughts. The awareness that he was still awake kept him in control over his own wheel-spinning scenarios.

He was about to conjure up a 19th-century doomed gentlemanly romance when something stirred in the dark hotel room. His mind went still along with his body as a silhouette rose from the ground next to the room window. Its shape made itself apparent against the rising sun shining through the hotel window.

Blaine recognized the shape from the familiar broad curve of shoulders and the lean waist. One side of Michael's hair was sticking up in awkward and adorable tuffs. His upper body was completely bare (and Blaine couldn't help but notice).

He felt a blush and smile come to his face as he silently slid further into his blanket so Mike didn't see that he was still awake. Blaine waited with bated breath as Mike stretched his arms and let out a very quiet yawn. Blaine peeked through a small crack in his blanket while Mike tip toed toward the bathroom.

While the sound of running water rushed through the pipes and sounded through the hotel walls, Blaine imagined Sunshine being the perfect wingman:

In this new world, Blaine had thought up in a second Sunshine and he were the greatest of friends. Sunshine would push Blaine and Mike together in a less dangerous way, unlike a certain Kurt Hummel. But, in Blaine's mind, Sunshine would be stupid yet adorable and watch all of Mike and Blaine's first dates with ridiculous disguises.

When Mike stepped out of the bathroom, he wore a towel wrapped lazily around his waist so his smooth hip bones were revealed. Blaine couldn't think of anything but the glistening warm skin and wet strands of black hair pressed onto Mike's forehead.

His entire body grew hot with yearning as he stared at Mike's body lit by the rising sun that was now shining brighter through the window. Blaine sat up a little, not wanting to show Mike that he was awake but also not wanting to feel like he was purposefully playing the perverted creep.

Mike did not see him. He remained naked under the white hotel towel as he arched over a bit to get into his bag. Blaine gulped as he examined the length of Michael's legs. The muscles in Mike's limbs stretched and flexed with particularly impressive strength as he moved them, his legs scooting forward a bit and his arms moving as he searched his bag.

Blaine gathered that Michael had these natural strengths because of his dancing and activeness in sports; he internally thanked both activities for existing as the sun rose a little bit more over Mike's arms, accenting the light veins and curves. He finally arose with a pair of dark pants in his grip. Blaine gaped as a piece of paper fell the ground and Mike had to bend over even more to retrieve it from the ground, more of his thighs appeared but the darkness of the room shadowed over the rest of the revealed body.

Blaine Anderson hated that he was a teenage boy with uncontrollable feelings of lust.

Mike unfolded the paper and held it up to the sunlight so he could get a better look at it, and Blaine was reminded of the day they first met. He remembered how the dust had settled around Michael like fairy dust; it was as if he was a magical being himself with that amused upturn of his lips and his dark eyes.

He felt his heart thudding inside him as he sat up even more, trying to get a better look at Mike being devoured by the flames of color bursting through the window; it made Michael alien to Blaine, as he remained in the darkness of the room. The orange, the pink, and the yellow danced around Mike's body as he pressed the paper against the glass. Blaine could make out a few lines etched across the tattered and abused piece of white paper.

Mike's fingers dragged over the corners of the paper, his thumb rubbing a dog-eared corner down. Blaine sat up a tiny bit more, aching to see what the paper had on it as it had so much of Mike's fixed attention. He sat up one inch too much; this accident was apparent as a pillow fell to the floor and landed with a dull, fluffy _thump_. Mike turned, his hand instantly closing around the paper.

Blaine thought quickly and stretched out his arms and yawned before muttering, "Erm… good morning?"

"Hey," Mike said with a whisper as he clutched his towel more firmly, reminding Blaine of himself earlier that day. "I didn't know that you were awake."

"Just woke up," Blaine said with a smoothness that could rival Mike's own stoic voice that he used in strange situations.

"Did I wake you? Sorry?"

Blaine waved it aside, "Nah, I was waking up every thirty minutes anyway."

"Ah," Mike nodded and bit down on his bottom lip as if he were trying to chew down the awkwardness. "I'm going to get dressed…" He moved back to his clothing.

"You can get dressed out here, Michael. I should go and do my hair."

He slid out of his bed and pulled his T-shirt down uncomfortably as he moved toward the bathroom. As he passed Michael he couldn't help but breathe in the scent of the hotel shampoo wafting off him. He reached down and picked up his own bag before shutting himself in the bathroom.

_He could easily be with me,_ Blaine thought as he rubbed a hand over his mussed hair. _Michael Chang could be attracted me, that is possible._He didn't know how he was supposed to go about it. Michael was so special to him. He wasn't two coffee dates or a drunken kiss; he wasn't even a "pressured into" or "conveniently available" kind of attraction.

Though the lingering thoughts of Mike being his first handful of something real and unprovoked by the usual standards remained within him, Blaine knew that any perusal of Michael Chang would have to wait. He had already decided that the most important thing in his life was to find Sunshine.

He put a few drops of gel onto his hands and rubbed them lightly over his curls. After a few tugs and pat downs, he moved his hands away to examine his own work. It looked almost the same as it had the day that Mike did it for him, though a little bit tighter.

With a wild thought, Blaine pulled open the door just in time to see Mike buttoning up a blue, checkered shirt over his chest.

"Michael, let me do your hair," Blaine didn't ask, instead he pulled on Mike's arm until the latter had stumbled into the bathroom. He quickly shushed Mike before he spoke up and picked up his comb and hair gel.

Mike looked at him, a wary expression apparent in his furrowed brows. Blaine only chuckled and put a tiny amount of hair gel into his hands. He was grateful that Michael's hair was still wet and malleable _and soft, his hair is so soft._

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Really getting the gel in there, Michael," Blaine muttered as he pulled his hands out of Mike's hair and laughed loudly at the result. Mike turned around quickly and looked in the mirror only to frown and turn back to glare at Blaine.

"Spikes? Really Blaine? That's totally racist."

"I'm not done. I was just getting the gel in there. And other people spike their hair and they aren't all Asian so I was not being racist," Blaine replied calmly.

Mike shook his head in annoyance but couldn't pull away before Blaine had his comb slicking Mike's hair down. Michael pulled an adorable grumpy face and folded his arms while Blaine parted his hair.

After he finished, Blaine twisted his mouth up as he observed his work. Mike looked a little silly with his hair parted to the side and slicked down. Blaine frowned and pulled a very small strand of hair down in front of Mike's forehead.

"It looks like you were just in a day-long business meeting."

"That makes no sense."

"Yes it does," Blaine pouted as he continued to pull down a few more stray hairs. His other hand worked on tucking unwanted hairs behind Mike's ear. "You do your hair all dapper and neat for this meeting but you end up shouting so much at the opposing view that your hair becomes kind of," Blaine tilted his head to the side and flicked one of Mike stray hairs up, his other hand now resting on Mike's shoulder. "Disheveled."

Mike chuckled, the laugh drawing Blaine a little closer, and shook his head again. "Can you see me in a business suit and doing businessy things?"

And the room felt suddenly smaller.

"No, not really," Blaine confessed as his hands fell to his side and his gaze shot to the ground, the blue and white tiles dull compared to the surge of awkward wanting. "I think you'll probably have a profession in dancing."

Mike's reaction was a surprise for Blaine. Instead of nodding and laughing, Mike looked suddenly downcast. He turned around and looked in the mirror, checking his hair. "You're right," his voice was expressionless. "I do look like a business man," he managed a smile and looked at Blaine in the mirror. "Typical Asian, right?"

Blaine watched his friend carefully. He could tell that he had struck a nerve, but he didn't know what he had said to cause Mike to be so cold and sarcastic.

"No," he said without thinking. He pushed a hand back into Mike's hair and messed it up so it looked worse than before. Mike swatted his hand away and scrambled to get do a different side of the bathroom, his laughter was back; that was enough for Blaine.

He washed his hands and glanced over at Mike, "You'll need to fix it now." He smirked.

"Thanks a lot," Mike grunted but a smile remained on his lips as he stepped back toward the sink and toward Blaine as well. Blaine felt a faint blush warm his cheeks when Michael's hand pressed on his shoulder to push him away from the mirror. Instead of leaving Mike alone, Blaine leaned against the bathroom door and tucked his hands into his pajama pockets.

After a few seconds of silence Blaine started to speak, "You know what you said yesterday about sexuality?" Mike glanced over at Blaine and nodded, obvious nervousness portrayed in his stiff shoulders. Blaine wondered for a second why Mike was nervous about something he didn't even put much thought into. "I think you had a point but I also think that you're stupid."

That roused a better reaction from Michael and he put his hands down on the sink before looking back at Blaine, his eyes searching Blaine's. "Go on?" Blaine could hear that Mike was amused by upturn of his tone at the end of his words.

"I think you're stupid because being gay is who I am."

"Is that what you think or what others think?" Mike had turned back to the mirror to fix his hair a little bit more.

Blaine pictured his own farther and the flashes of speedy fist coming toward his face and he flinched. "It's not something I expect you to understand, Michael."

"Don't get all drama queen on me," Mike replied in a dull tone as he turned to face Blaine, his lips were forming a knowing and warm smile; this drew Blaine in. He stepped toward Mike and reached up to pull down a strand of hair from the rest so it dangled over Mike's forehead; he loved when Mike's hair was just a little untamed.

"I'm not being a drama queen," Blaine said defiantly as he let his hand fall to his side. "There are a lot of things that you don't get about being gay."

"You're right," Mike said in a soft voice. "I don't have a clue as to what you are talking about. I know that your fathe—"

"We can't talk about that," Blaine said hastily.

Mike's eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. "Why is that?"

"Because I have a system now and I need to follow it," Blaine glanced up into Mike's eyes, hoping he would understand. Mike returned the gaze and his mouth turned up in a very small, understanding smile.

"I don't think that being gay is who you are, Blaine," Mike said. "I think that it's just a part of who you are, like the color of your eyes, or the shape of your nose. It has influenced some traits in you, like how you flinch a little when another guy touches you and then you act as if it's completely comfortable for you. But does it influence every thought you have? Is it like a mental disease that makes all your focus on the one fact that you like boys? You are doing exactly what the opposing view is doing, alienating yourself as something abnormal. You're not an alien. You're not on a pedestal above all other people that aren't homosexual. You're just you; which is pretty fucking special if you ask me." There was a pause as Mike let out a breath, finishing his speech with, "and that's all I have to say."

Another silence. This one was tense with anxiety and awe.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Usually you're so quiet, either that or you get really goofy. How do you sound so… intellectual and philosophical?"

Mike shrugged and moved around Blaine toward the door, "I guess I get too used to being quiet all the time when I am quiet, I have time to actually think about things. When I first discovered that I was bisexual, I was terrified. I spent all night working it all in my head and then weeks later I came to the conclusion that I just told you and I felt a lot better about myself."

"I still wish you would have told me," Blaine mumbled, his back now turned to Michael.

"Would things be that different if I had made it totally obvious?"

"I," _Perhaps you would have told me if you were interested in me,_"I guess not."_I guess you're not._

()

"Bullshit," Kurt said loudly, it was surprising for Blaine to hear Kurt swear, "That's bullshit and you're an idiot."

"Okay, I know that you think bisexuality isn't real bu—"

"Shut up! I only said that because I was mad that you made out with Rachel Berry and liked it," Kurt snapped, his eyes flaring up as he rounded toward Blaine.

"It's bullshit that Mike is attracted to guys and doesn't like you that way. All the signs point in a 'crush' direction with that boy," Kurt threw his hands out in wild and pointing gestures, his lips turning up in that strange and adorable sarcastic scowl.

"What signs, Kurt?" Blaine asked, exasperated.

They were walking together along the sidewalks of the second town they had stopped at, the afternoon sun shining above them and causing Kurt to mumble about proper skin care. They had abandoned the rest of the group back at an old arcade. Blaine needed someone to dump all of his thoughts about Michael on, and Kurt was the best and most willing option.

"He let you stay at his house. He has always had trouble befriending you. He is always staring at you!"

Blaine blushed and ducked his head down; he didn't believe that for a second but the very thought made him flustered.

"He was being a good friend. He is shy. He _does not_ stare at me; trust me, I would notice."

Kurt hummed and nodded his head upwards, his eyes squinting over at Blaine. "You didn't notice when I stared at you, Blaine."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have a crush on you. We both know this. You have reminded me of it several times," Blaine snapped, his tone annoyed. Kurt raised a thin eyebrow but muttered an apology. "Anyway, if Michael _did_ like me like that he would have told me that he was bi, wouldn't he?"

Kurt nodded and bit down on his bottom lip. "Yeah, I guess. You said he is shy right? Maybe he is shy _and_ an idiot."

Blaine couldn't hide away that a part of him thought that maybe Mike was interested. Maybe Mike was just exceedingly shy when it came to relationships and that was why he never told Blaine that he was bisexual. Maybe that entire conversation about Sebastian was staged so Mike could "casually" tell Blaine that he was an option. The idea roused an excitement in him but he said nothing to his friend.

Kurt was now checking his phone to see that he had no messages. Blaine peered over his shoulder to see if there was any evidence of whom Kurt's boyfriend was. Kurt pushed him away.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"No."

"Why not? Because you don't want to out him?"

"That's not an issue with you."

"Wh-wait. Do I know him? Do_I_ know he is gay?"

Kurt pursed his lips together and tucked his phone away in his pocket, his boots clicked the cement as he sped up, clearly trying to escape before Blaine realized…

"Oh my god," Blaine said as soon as the name and the face clicked to him. He only knew of two other boys that were in the closet. One of them was someone that Blaine was not supposed to know about. The other was a rough looking jock with bristly brown hair and a scowl that was usually set for Kurt Hummel. David Karofsky. Blaine's mouth fell open and his feet felt like they were surrounded by heavy cement.

It was only when Kurt Hummel was a block ahead of him did he finally gain the strength to move. He called out to Kurt and quickened his pace, determined in that moment to get as much… guilt? Information?

"Kurt, you have serious explaining to do," Blaine muttered as he caught up with Kurt. The latter finally slowed down and sighed heavily.

"I knew you would react like that."

"Of course you did. What sane person_wouldn't_ react like that? Karofsky? _Really?_" Blaine could feel a strange sort of annoyance and discomfort surge through him as he looked at Kurt. But Kurt had a prideful and stubborn look on his face as he brushed his hair back with his fingers and stared back at Blaine. He was completely unashamed now. "He threatened to_kill_ you, Kurt." Blaine continued; his face set in a scowl.

Kurt drew himself up taller, really showing Blaine how tall he was in comparison, "and I forgave him forever ago. After I left McKinley, I didn't hate him and I wasn't afraid of him."

"Because he wasn't there to push you into lockers and kiss you without permission… or worse."

There was a sharp sound that shook through the air around them. Its echo told Blaine just how hard the slap he just received was, that and the way his neck felt pained from jerking so quickly to the side. His cheek burned instantly and he could feel a small amount of blood building up in his mouth from biting his own tongue in the impact. Who knew that Kurt Hummel had such gusto behind the back of his hand?

Blaine spluttered, completely shocked as he placed his own hand over the burning spot on his face.

"Don't you ever say anything like that ever again, Blaine," Kurt was enflamed in a sort of angry passion that Blaine had never seen before. "David is not that kind of boy and he never was. He is and was confused and stupid. The things he did were absolutely wrong and we both know that, Blaine. Why do you think we are taking it so slow? Jesus, it took him all summer just to ask me out and I had to make him," Kurt stepped toward Blaine, his finger raised and threatening. "I am not going to hold a grudge against him because I'm a better person than that and I see more than a dumb jock that only has lusts, okay? I see a boy that needs to work aside his anger and become the boy that doesn't throw kids into lockers to feel better about himself. I'm helping him because I don't think he deserves to hate himself.

"I'm dating him because I am fucking attracted to him and he makes me laugh when he isn't moping about how much he has screwed up. I like him because of the person he really is, not that façade he kept on during school. Alright, Blaine? If you tell a soul about this I will tell everyone we know about Michael, got it?"

Blaine didn't know what to think. He swallowed hard and stepped back a little, his face still burning from the slap. His thoughts were scattered again and he felt the return of all of his compressed emotions. It felt the way he did when Michael had made it known that he was bisexual. The shock opened up a sort of dam in his mind and the flood of emotions was quickly returning to him.

He pushed it away, reminding himself that there was only one important thing to worry about and that was Sunshine.

"Okay, Kurt," Blaine nodded, his mind slowly becoming numb to this new information. "I'll keep your secret. Excuse me," he turned around and headed back to the arcade, his hand rubbing the side of his face.

()

**-I'm really sorry, Blaine. I shouldn't have done that.-**

**-It's fine I would have done the same thing. I was way out of line-**

**-But I was all frustrated because I know that you weren't okay with it I was out of line too-**

**-We were both out of line okay?-**

**-Okay-**

**-Are you okay with this?-**

**-No not really-**

**-I didn't expect you to be. But will you give him a shot? Talk to him.-**

**-I don't know if I can do that-**

**-Think about it?-**

**-You're asking way too much from me right now, Kurt.-**

**-I know.-**

Blaine glanced over his phone at Kurt to see that the latter was red-nosed and watery-eyed. Blaine was reminded of when Pavarotti had died and Kurt was distraught because of it. Kurt had looked so beautiful and sincere, for once he wasn't hiding behind his sass and witty words and he was just a Kurt Hummel that cared and didn't need all of those barriers to express himself, and yet he still managed to be dramatic. These dramatic actions caused Blaine to feel equally dramatic. He felt the bridge of his nose starting to sting as a sign that tears were coming.

He blinked quickly and looked away from his friend. He felt _betrayed? Annoyed? Sickened?_He didn't know. The only point that crossed his mind the most was that his feelings about the situation he had tried to suppress just hours before. He owed it all up to his sleepiness and Kurt's insistence that they should talk about it.

But he was also annoyed. He was annoyed that Kurt Hummel had once again thrown a practiced speech at him. Was he so predictable and inflexible that someone could easily tell how he was going to react? It bothered him as much as the newly discovered relationship between Kurt and Karofsky did. He didn't want to be predictable. He wanted to be fascinating.

Blaine yawned and stretched out his arms, glancing over at Mike and Sam while doing so. Mike was grinning foolishly as Sam talked to him, Sam's eyes were wide and his hands were moving wildly around so Blaine could assume that he was doing his imitations again.

_I can…not be jealous,_Blaine thought as he crossed his arms and looked away. _This is me, Blaine Anderson, not being jealous. Take that, universe!_His eyes were set on a different pairing, Wes and Tina were whispering angrily to each other, but his thoughts did not stray from the two boys his gaze just left.

Mike burst into a fit of laughter and all spontaneity was forgotten. Blaine felt his face get hot as he glanced in their direction again. His gaze met the floor not even a second after it looked at the two of them. The image of Mike leaning in to whisper something into his best friend's ear was burnt in Blaine's mind.

_Why wouldn't he like Sam? Sam is perfect for him. He's not dramatic; he's fun and hilarious, down-to-earth and kind. He's everything that I can't seem to be._Blaine chewed on his bottom lip and added their relationship to the end of his "to-worry-about-later" list. He swallowed and closed his eyes, pushing it down along with the worries about Kurt.

He stood up slowly, trying not to attract too much attention, and casually made his way across the arcade tables toward Tina and Wes.

"Hey guys," Blaine said, turning on his old charm, "can I talk to you?"

Wes pulled out of the glare he was sending Tina to stare at Blaine. "What?"

"You remember that boy?" Blaine replied as he sat down in front of them, "the one you called Wallflower?"

Tina sighed and ran her fingers through her blue streak of hair as she observed him, "You know more about him than I do."

"He was in my cabin," Wes said with a clear annoyance at Blaine's interruption. "He didn't talk at all, but all the boys said that he was a tough guy because he was from New York. So they were afraid of him and they thought he was cool. They tried to be his friends at first but stopped trying a few days into camp because he was never around."

"He wasn't mysterious," Tina scoffed, "he was shy."

Blaine nodded in to agree with Tina. "But, um… what was his name?"

Both of them shrugged.

"Never learned it, he didn't draw a lot of attention from the teachers," Tina tugged at her own hair, twirling it in front of her eyes. "There was a time when he talked though," she glanced pointedly at Blaine and smiled.

His face grew warm, "Yeah, the Ferris wheel."

Tina paused, licking her lips in thought. "After you suddenly left, he never showed up to lessons but I saw him sitting by the beach or hanging around the woods. Whenever I would go to talk to him he would run away. He used to be at least approachable," Tina flicked her hair out of her face.

Blaine hummed in thought; he brought his fingers up to his cheek and scratched at the warmth brought on by the memory of Sunshine's kiss. Were these actions brought on by Blaine's sudden absence? He didn't dare look too much into it.

He had looked through website after website for a list of names—for anything—from the camp that was closed down when he was nine and had found nothing. But this conversation with Tina and a grumpy as always Wes told him that he had a greater chance at meeting Sunshine now that he was headed in the right direction. The small amount of information that Wes had given him gave him hope that he would run into his old friend as they toured New York. _He lives there. I'm actually going to the place where he lived._

After this happy thought, a nagging voice, sounding very much like Wes, told him that there was more to New York than New York City.

"So he was in your cabin; that would make him your age?" Blaine asked, still trying to find out all he could.

"No, a year younger. He was in the blue side of the cabin," was the reply.

Blaine connected the dots in his mind slowly, his brain not working as quickly due to his worrisome and elated thoughts already taking up most of his mind space, and he concluded that Mike would be 17 turning 18 or already 18. Of course it didn't matter how old Sunshine was from the relationship aspect, but it told him where to look if the boy lived in New York City.

"He lived in New York? Was it ever told where he lived in New York?"

This time it was Tina's turn to look apprehensively at Blaine. "You aren't going to spend all of your free time in New York City looking for an old friend, are you?"

Blaine knitted his eyebrows together and pouted a little, thrown off by her exasperated tone.

"Why not? I may not get another chance."

"Another chance? Blaine, there are so many people living in New York City. I think your best bet is the Internet. Facebook? MySpace? Vampire forums? Are you expecting some kind of _Sleepless in Seattle_meeting?"

"Chances with the internet are: you'll meet some old pervert and he'll just pretend to be your old friend to get you back to his old and mold-infested apartment," Wes corrected.

"I'm still optimistic about this. If I find him on the top of the empire state building or on MySpace, it doesn't matter as long as it is him."

"Ew, MySpace? Who still has a MySpace?" Blaine winced as Kurt sauntered up to their group, a forced smile expressed on his lips.

"Pretty sure Rachel still has one," Tina mused, tugging at her hair again.

He used this sudden change in topic as an excuse to back out of the conversation, relived that Kurt was there to awkwardly save him from answering to being such a silly dreamer.

When he pushed past all the doubt, annoyance, and fear, he was just another teenage boy with hope for an epic romance. But then his eyes would move back to Michael he was okay with the subtlety that Mike seemed to represent in his every quiet smile and graceful movement. Mike Chang wasn't a grand gesture kind of guy, as proven by his dislike of being "too" open about his sexuality.

Contrary to his plan about not focusing on Mike until he was satisfied with finding Sunshine, Blaine often thought about him and watched him. It was almost peaceful to think about Michael as a person, not his love interest or Sam's.

He focused on Mike's fingers, and how they moved over the steering wheel along with the music playing, gently tapping along with the beat. Blaine liked how Mike would flick his index finger against his thumb whenever he was listening to his Spanish homework or when he was generally concentrating on something so hard that he didn't notice any of his surroundings. But what Blaine liked the most was the way Michael handled things he considered delicate, like his high-tech phone and his unscathed iPod, or that strange piece of paper that Blaine would occasionally see him unfolding when he thought no one else was looking. Blaine had stopped wondering what was on the paper, coming to the assumption that it was probably a letter from someone important.

During their first night in NYC, Blaine decided to take observations from Michael's forehead, which wrinkled up a little bit every time the latter raised his eyebrows in surprise or sarcasm, to his mouth. Mike's lips were nothing special, they weren't large like Sam's or full of witty and knowing smiles like Kurt's; however, there was a dimple that accented on the left side of Michael's mouth whenever he so much as twitched his lip up in a smile or talked with that teasing spark in his eyes.

"Would you call that leering?" Tina whispered as she walked next to Blaine and pulled him out of his intense staring mindset.

"No…" he said slowly, taking a drink from his water bottle. They were daytime touring the streets of Broadway (Kurt was on the phone with Rachel, of course, talking about an "affordable" apartment building that the group had passed earlier) and Blaine was walking a little bit behind to watch Michael, walking ahead of them. "I'm _not_leering. That would involve lust wouldn't it?"

"Okay, you're observing Mike like he is a test subject. That doesn't make me any more comfortable." Tina made a particularly good impression of Wes as she looked Blaine up and down skeptically.

"I'm sorry?" Blaine asked, stopping in his tracks. For a moment Blaine was fearful that Tina was going to go literally diva on him.

Tina leaned toward Blaine, nudging her shoulder against his. "I like you Blaine, I don't know you that well but I still think you're okay."

"But…?"

"But I think I should warn you," Tina pulled Blaine to a nearby bench and sat him down, her look was serious.

"About what?"

"That boy is an idiot. He is the most oblivious and most unreadable boy in all of existence," before Blaine could get any more out of Tina she was already walking away, her boots clunking on the pavement as she distanced herself from him.

He could only sigh and look back at Mike, who looked back at him just in time. Blaine felt his chest sting with warmth as that small dimple appeared while Mike smiled at him, he couldn't help but smile back. He felt his heart thud a little stronger when a less apparent dimple on the other side of Michael's lips appeared as his smile grew. Wanting to resist the blush that he felt coming, Blaine looked away.

"Hey, Blaine," the smooth voice seemed a bit higher and forced, but Blaine didn't let this abnormality affect him too much.

"Michael?" He replied and looked up at Mike with his eyes squinted as the sun was shining directly behind Mike.

"I need to talk to you."

"Go ahead."

Blaine watched with anticipation as Michael sat down next to him. It felt like the bottle of water he was just drinking was actually hot air. He licked his lips, afraid that they were going to dry up along with his mouth. He could tell that Mike was nervous by the way that Mike's feet were tapping impatiently on the concrete below them. Of course Michael's fidgeting was common, the boy could never really keep still, but his hands were also resting on his own knees as if he were trying to keep them from bouncing too much and betray his obvious anxiety.

"Not right now, Blaine. It's important, but I have to tell you later."

"Well, it's obviously not that important if you can't tell me right away," Blaine chimed happily, but Mike didn't react with a teasing wink or smile like Blaine had expected. Instead he sighed heavily and looked over at Blaine, their eyes connecting and causing Blaine's tongue to dart out and lick his dry lips again.

"Tonight, okay?" Mike's smile was small but sincere and he was gone as quickly as he came.

It was a constant churning and nausea for Blaine as he sat through dinner, a few straight-to-DVD movies, and a game of movie trivia with the prospect of Mike telling him something important later on drilling into Blaine's mind. It was like his thoughts were a scale with one side weighed down with all of his problems and the other with the fact that Michael had something important to tell him; even with all the weight of his current life situation resting atop of one scale, the other scale with Mike was still heavier and overpowering.

When the rest of the group was starting to settle down into their hotel room, Mike caught Blaine's eye and nodded his head towards the door. Blaine responded with his own nod and stood up. He waited and watched while Mike put his button up shirt over his white T-shirt, aware that they were both being watched by Sam while he feigned interest in his comic book.

Mike opened the door and Sam finally flipped the book shut and said, "Where are you guys going?"

"I'm going to show Blaine where I used to live, it's not far from here," Mike replied as he fumbled with the top buttons of his shirt, his hands seemed to be shaking.

"Can I come too?" Sam asked, putting his comic book down to stand up.

"No, I'll show you tomorrow, man. Just the two of us, I promise." Mike smiled over at his friend before pulling Blaine with him into the hallway.

He saw how disappointed Sam was as the door shut behind them, his cheeks were pink and his lips were set into a pout. Blaine rallied himself and followed Mike down the hall. He paid attention to his stomach, now full of a certain cotton-like sensation and ignored the guilt he felt.

"So," Mike said as they walked out into the street. "Do you like New York City so far?"

Blaine shrugged and looked around at the sea of cars and building lights. He liked the city well enough but he couldn't decide if it was a good vacation spot or a permanent residence. "I don't think I have been here long enough to decide that."

"I lived here for a while but it never suited my dad; and my mom hated the lack of space, she really wanted a garden," Mike pushed his hands into his pockets and glanced around, he seemed to be following Blaine's gaze around the cars and city lights. "She made me go to central park with her every other day of the week."

"We should go there!" Blaine said loudly, inspired by the romantic notion of green scenery in a city of concrete.

"To Central Park?" Mike raised an eyebrow and flashed an amused smile. "At night?"

"Why not?" Blaine shrugged and pushed his arm against Mike's. "You think it's dangerous?"

"Uhm, yeah."

Blaine instantly recoiled from the idea at Mike's response, but his previous mental debate with himself reminded him that he needed to stop being so structured and safe. "I know how to box," he stated, "I'll protect you!"

Mike laughed loudly and patted his hand on Blaine's shoulder, "I can protect myself, Blaine."

"Well, so can I," Blaine stuck his nose up proudly.

"Alright, we'll go to Central Park after we go to where I used to live," Mike said happily.

"I can't believe you lived here," Blaine said after a few seconds of silence.

"Like I said, it was only for a few years back when I was just a kid," Mike stated.

"Still, that's pretty cool."

"Yeah, it makes me a cool rebellious, mysterious guy," there was that wink that Blaine had missed earlier.

"I don't think so," Blaine shook his head and nudged Mike so he stumbled a bit on the sidewalk.

"What I'm cool?"

"No, you're a dork."

It wasn't a magnificent home, but it was definitely suited for a small single-child family. It was scrunched between two other houses and surrounded by a small black fence. Blaine could definitely see why Mrs. Chang didn't like it, as there wasn't a place to grow.

"I know it's not particularly cool or fascinating," Mike said as they walked away from it. "But I still wanted to show you."

"Thank you, Michael," Blaine said calmly, though his mind was racing with all of the possible reasons as to why Mike wanted to show him.

"Where do you think you'll be in a few years? Here?"

"I have no idea," Blaine admitted with a laugh. "I would like to be a performer but…"

"But what?"

"I don't think I would get much support."

"What makes you think that?"

"My family— my dad in particular."

"Why?"

Blaine let out a long sigh and looked over at Michael as they made their way down the sidewalk. "I think you understand already that he doesn't exactly support anything about me."

"He's never gone to any of your performances?"

"Well, yeah. He's been to a few. I'm sure it's because my mom and brother made him do it. "

Mike paused like he was about to say something, but then closed his mouth tightly. Blaine was about to ask him what he was thinking when he decided that it was time they moved on to what the night was really about.

"Michael?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're not going to kill me are you?"

"What?"

"Step one: Get Blaine alone in a strange place, step two: kill him!" Blaine laughed at his own joke and nudged Mike. Once again he didn't get what he expected from his friend; instead of a laugh or a nudge back, Michael only showed him a slight smile and continued to walk.

"Funny," Blaine could definitely trace anxiety in Mike's words.

"Why did you want to talk to me, Michael," he said with a clear and precise tone so Mike wouldn't miss the meaning.

"It's a long story."

"I'm not going anywhere. Trust me, there is nowhere for me to run," Blaine glanced down at Michael's hand and found that he was almost going to reach for those slender fingers and intertwine them with his own, but he stopped himself halfway to his destination and settled for placing his hand in his jacket pocket.

Blaine didn't pressure Mike to speak, though he was sorely tempted to, and so the latter remained silent until they reached the park.

"My dad grew up in Lima, but he brought us here when I was a baby because he found a good job that paid well for the expensive lifestyle that New York gave us. But my mom liked flowers, as I already told you," Mike reached over a plucked a small wildflower out of the grass and handed it over to Blaine.

He blushed a little and looked down at the pink flower. "Um thank you?" This was beginning to feel like some kind of date.

"So I lived about nine hours away from Lima," Michael continued to walk forward into the park and Blaine struggled to keep up with him, still surprised about receiving a flower. "But my dad still wanted me to have the same childhood that he had growing up in Lima. Well, he kind of did. There are some things that he didn't want me to live through."

Blaine didn't know why Michael was telling him all this but he listened intently, nodding his head while he walked beside his friend. He felt like he had heard this all before, perhaps from Sam? He supposed it didn't really matter now that he was hearing it from its original source.

"Anyway, I used to visit Lima a lot until my dad got a job at Ohio State; mom got a job too, but before that…" Mike stopped in his tracks and stuck a hand into his pocket. Blaine eyed him curiously and stopped as well, the flower twirling between his middle finger and thumb. "I went to a camp that my dad used to go to when he was a boy. It was just one summer," Mike pulled out that same piece of paper that Blaine had seen him looking at so often.

Michael's hands were undoubtedly shaking as he unfolded the paper. He tilted it toward Blaine so the park lights shone across its wrinkles and faded pencil lines. Blaine almost reached for it but quickly drew back as if it was going to burn him. He recognized those curves and that neat handwriting that was so alien to Blaine's own handwriting. He gazed over the stain the moisture of that flower that was once taped down to the paper had left and felt his eyes starting to burn.

"Why did you take that?" Blaine was surprised by how calm his voice was when he felt a hungry rage surge through him. "Give me that paper right now, Michael." He continued, his voice getting louder with every syllable.

Mike did not give him the map. He folded it quickly and stuck it back in his pocket. Blaine followed it with his eyes and could barely hear what Mike was saying over his own destructive need to obtain that map.

"Does it mean that much to you?"

"When did you take it? Why? Why did you take it from me?" He didn't feel like he was really in control of what he was saying; his own voice sounded distant but calm. He was sure that his face was portraying his feelings by the way Michael took a small step backward.

"Because I had to," Mike responded with his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Moonbeam."

Tears were dropping off Blaine's chin but he didn't really care to wipe them away. "You had to? Had to? You have no idea how important he i-that paper is, Michael."

"Blaine," Mike reached forward and held Blaine's shoulders, he ducked his head down to try and look Blaine in the eyes but Blaine avoided looking at him, his brain was reacting so slowly to everything but something deep inside of him was screaming at him exactly what Mike had just said to him. "I don't know how important it is to you, but it's important to me too. That's why I had to take it."

"Really?" Blaine's tone changed so quickly that Mike stepped back again in surprise. His words were soft and hopeful. "It is? It's important to you?"

Mike looked at him as if he were confused, almost hurt. "Of course. Of course it is," a smile broke his surprised expression. "I spent hours working on it after all."

Blaine wasn't sure about what he was supposed to do with all of this new information. It all seemed too surreal for him to adjust to. It was all too easy. Or was it too confusing? He only knew that the two most important people in his life at that moment were standing in front of him, smiling the same smile and gazing at him with the same tearful eyes. He wanted to punch Michael. He wanted to kiss Michael. Blaine wanted some sort of abnormal physical contact with Michael.

He stepped forward and rested his head on Mike's chest; bringing his hands up to the latter's shoulders and clinging on to him as he blinked quickly. Strong arms wrapped around him slowly, and he could hear and feel the quick thudding of a heart beat as he nuzzled closer to Mike's chest.

"I thought—" Blaine didn't know what he was supposed to say. It seemed like they were embracing each other for hours until Blaine pulled away and, without really thinking, shoved Mike. "Why didn't you tell me? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

His entire body was reacting in so many different ways, aching to touch Michael again, aching to push him away, and aching most of all to kiss. He was so angry at Mike, but so in love that his chest felt tight and his throat felt dry. He was sure he looked like a damn mess with his eyes red with tears and his mouth panting with so many words hanging on the edge of his tongue. There were so many things he needed to say and do that he couldn't focus on any of them. He was getting tired of all of these emotions but he wouldn't want to live without them, he wouldn't want to live without all of the things that Mike had given him.

Mike spluttered a little bit and looked like he was about to talk before Blaine reached forward and hugged him again. This time Mike stumbled back and Blaine lurched forward as well so their bodies were pressed close together and the instant heat shocked Blaine so much that he pulled back a little, thus making it the most awkward hug that he had ever participated in as Mike struggled to keep him balanced by spreading both of his legs on either side of Blaine's. The only sounds being made were the scuffles of rocks being moved around beneath their feet.

"Okay," Blaine gasped out. "We need to sit down before we fall in-over."


	16. Friendship

**Authors Note: This chapter has not been edited by my beta. **

A clap of thunder echoed above them but Blaine could only focus on Michael as he spoke in stuttering phrases. It began as a silent moment on a central park bench as Blaine rubbed at his forehead and gripped tightly on to Mike's hand. They were at a point where Mike had finally started to speak with park lights outlining his hair and face, trapping Blaine in the moments that they were now sharing. He watched the series of Mike's uncomfortable smiles with the dull ache for something more pounding away at the over-powering ecstatic curiosity.

Michael spoke of regrets that he didn't tell Blaine sooner but his sorrow was backed by the fact that he didn't want Blaine to think of him as that eleven-year-old Sunshine, but as the boy Blaine knew in that moment. "I kind of screwed it up though. I kept staying away from you. I guess I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"That you wouldn't like me and that I would use my old self as a sort of safety net so I could still be your friend."

He didn't think it was fair. Michael didn't really know who he was when they first met as teenagers and yet he still acted like a friendship with Blaine was more important. Did Mike think that Blaine was the same little boy he met at camp? Is that what he expected from Blaine, a sort of childish, playful boy with loose curls and a bright imagination? He felt his chest sting at the thought and his hand automatically went up to tug at his own hair, once made a little curly and loose by Mike Chang, but for what reason? Because he genially liked Blaine's hair like that or was he trying to catch a trace of Moonbeam?

Blaine looked away from his friend and peered into the dark green scenery in front of them, the park lights giving them some traces of color in the darkness. He slipped his hand away from Michael's grip and said in a quiet but determined tone, "what about me?"

"What do you mean?"

"What am I to you? Am I Blaine or am I a little boy you met when you were eleven?"

"You're both I guess. I had trouble separating the two of you, which might be another reason why-"

"That's stupid. You're stupid."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you should be," Blaine pouted and crossed his arms. "I'm really mad at you."

"I can tell."

"For the longest time I had to convince myself that you were an imaginary friend because you never told me your actual name and nobody else knew you," Blaine admitted. "Is it silly that a three day, nameless friendship matters so much to both of us?" He continued in a less bitter tone before Mike could react to his former sentence.

Mike's hand slipped back into his and the aching feeling returned with a stronger force.

"I don't think it's that silly, I'm kind of relieved to be completely honest. And I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll be real if…"

"If what?"

"If you promise not to abandon me."

Blaine saw the eleven-year-old boy in Mike's expression as the latter looked at the wet grass beneath their feet. He saw the friendless, shy, and self-declared mute that was once Sunshine as Mike bit down on his lower lip. How much did Blaine's disappearance affect Mike? He was a boy that could only really open up around his Moonbeam, and when his Moonbeam was taken away he was closed off.

"I didn't abandon you, Michael."

"I know that now," Mike replied with a knowing smile, his lips curving up in a teasing manner that caused emotions to blur inside of Blaine so they all meshed together in a completely indefinable mess."I don't think someone that meant to leave me alone would keep something as stupid as a map I made of pencil and construction paper and a flatten flower," Michael laughed and looked up at Blaine. There was a new expression in his eyes as they glanced over Blaine, the latter could only define it as happiness.

Blaine grinned and then nudged his friend before muttering, "I'm still really mad at you." _I think I'm mad at you._

"I think I can handle that," Mike squeezed his hand and leaned his head back on the bench so Blaine had a good view of his neck and jaw. Blaine followed his lead and leaned his own head back as well.

They both gazed at the ceiling of leaves above them and breathed the rain-threatening air.

"Are you still afraid of heights?"

"A little. Depends on the height."

"I take it you don't want to visit the Empire State building?"

"My parents tried to take me once and I nearly threw up," Blaine felt Mike move and turned to see that Mike was now looking at him. "It's kind of funny, to be honest, that I don't like heights but I also don't like keeping my feet on the ground."

"What? You can fly?"

"I probably can, I just haven't tried."

And for some reason this was incredibly funny for both of them. They laughed together and Blaine could feel his chest start to warm and his stomach start to bubble as he looked over at Mike; his head was arched back while he laughed and his two dimples were clear and adorable. And Blaine could feel himself leaning in just as Mike closed his mouth and looked back at him.

The smell of lemons and cinnamon was in the back of Blaine's mind, so hard to concentrate on above his pounding heart. If it wasn't for another loud clash of thunder Blaine might have kissed him on the park bench in Central Park. But he didn't seem destined for something so drastically romantic. They both jumped and looked up at the sky above them, still covered by the now shaking leaves.

"I think," Blaine blinked as water fell onto his face.

"Yeah," Mike stood up and pulled Blaine up with him. "We should head back."

The rain in New York City was berating and abusive to them as they ran down the city's streets with their hands over their heads at an attempt to keep their heads free from moisture, a trivial act compared to fight the pelting droplets of warm liquid. As Blaine held his hands over his head he grinned at the chances of facing rain twice in one week.

When Blaine glanced over at Mike he noticed that the latter looked like a sloppy, wet, black-haired puppy. He acted as such as when he shook his head violently, causing splashes of water to hit the hotel walls around them…and Blaine, who spluttered at the sudden splash to the face and let out one emphatic laugh.

He flew forward and tackled Michael to the carpeted hallway floor. Mike let out a loud yelp and attempted to scramble away from Blaine's grip before the latter could shake the water off his own hair and onto his victim.

"You were already wet!" Mike called out, attempting to shield his eyes.

"And so are you! Problem?" Blaine pushed Mike's hands away and pinned them to the ground on either side of Mike's head before lowering his hair down into his face. He shook his head and laughed victoriously as Michael wriggled underneath him.

"Should we leave you two alone?"

Blaine looked up to see Tina peering out the hotel room door and down at them. He quickly shook his head again before climbing off Mike, who had somehow ended up between Blaine's legs.

"Ye-no-sorry, he was just getting his pay back," Mike responded as he pulled on Blaine's arm for support while trying to stand up. They stumbled a little bit and their laughter rang through the empty hotel hallways. Their laughs remained until they followed Tina into the privacy of their hotel room.

The first thing Blaine noticed was a slouched and obviously displeased Sam sitting in the middle of the room on a chair surrounded by clean white towels, his hair was like a damp blonde mop over his eyes. Kurt was standing over him with a pair of slim scissors that Blaine recognized from Kurt's collection of hair-care products, and a glittering comb.

"Sam needed a haircut," Tina stated as she observed Blaine and Mike's confused expressions, "So Kurt and I kindly asked him to have a seat."

"It's a traaaap!"

"A trap of fashion expertise!" Kurt corrected, giving a sharp snip to the back of Sam's head. "Anyway, you're next, hippie Warbler," he continued as he concentrated on Sam's hair, each snip causing the latter to flinch.

"Thanks, Kurt," Blaine said sarcastically.

"Don't pout," Tina reached a hand up to rub at Michael's hair. "Mike is after you."

Michael shook his head with a growl and Tina cringed away as water flipped off his hair.

"Ew, hair juices! Why?"

"Why? Why would you do that?" Kurt said with equal rage, but Blaine could see a very small smile indented on his lips.

Mike only chuckled and rubbed at his still-slightly-drippy hair.

Blaine caught his eye and smiled, and the smile was returned and the barrier broke completely. The floods of old and new emotion over-took Blaine in that moment. He barely had the control in him to tell himself not to cry or fall to his knees as he looked at that warm smile and those dark eyes squinted up in happiness. Blaine admitted to himself that he definitely loved this young man standing in front of him. It was the love of friendship combined with the love that so often remained forgotten behind lust, sex, and over-romantics. Of course the lust was still there but it was dim compared to the soft, peaceful love that he was feeling in that moment. He didn't need to question it anymore; he didn't need to own it all up to the excitement of the moment now. It was too clear to ignore and excuse.

That moment felt like ages but Blaine had to rationalize that it wasn't even a second long as he stepped forward to embrace Michael. He didn't even notice that the entire room went completely silent. He could only pay attention to Mike's response at being so randomly hugged. He could feel Mike's arms lift in surprise but quickly fold around him to squeeze him back and a happy smile felt permanent on Blaine's face.

After a few more seconds Blaine pulled away and sighed happily before looking at everyone else. They all looked a little shocked.

Except for Sam.

Sam Evans was scratching at his forearm uncomfortably, his eyes still covered by hair but his lips quivered a bit as he turned them up into a shaky and forced smile.

"Should we really leave you two alone?" Tina said with raised eyebrows.

"Sorry," Blaine said in apology to Sam more than anyone else, "I'm just in a really good mood," he couldn't help but let out an awkward laugh when Mike patted him on the back. Blaine walked away, avoiding the hinting and obvious stare of Kurt's as he made his way to his bed.

There were two beds in their room, Mike couldn't afford more than one room, and so the sleeping pattern would change at every hotel. This time Blaine was taking the floor next to the window while Tina and Kurt shared one bed and Wes and Mike occupied the other, Sam was sleeping on the cot supplied by the hotel room.

After all the hair was cut and Wes returned from his voyages around the hotel, his wet clothes proving that he went outside and that he wasn't being entirely truthful, the six of them decided to call it a night with _Toy Story 3_ playing on the TV.

Blaine was cuddled up close in his comforter and looking at the bed above him. He felt like his heart was never going to beat normally again and his small smile was never going to go away. In the back of his mind he knew that the smile at least would drop and he would have to face other factors in his and Mike's life. Just as his mind was sort of slipping back to reality, Mike's hand dropped down the side of the bed and Blaine looked up in surprise to see that Mike was peering down at him from under the blankets.

"Hi," Mike's voice was almost like a child's as he whispered to Blaine.

"Hi," Blaine whispered back. He bravely reached his hand upward and grabbed Michael's hand. Mike squeezed his hand in approval and he poked his head fully out of the blankets.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Mike's behavior was adorable and endearing.

"Of course."

"It was hard for me when you left," his thumb rubbed at the back of Blaine's hand as he spoke, "I couldn't really make friends. I thought that they would leave me, too. And I'm sorry about that."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that I ever thought that you would leave me," Mike's voice was steadily losing its strength.

He felt his breathing stop in his chest as he looked up into those dark eyes as he thought up the right words to sooth Michael's regrets.

"To be fair, you didn't really know me well enough to know if I would leave or not, I could have been a 40-year-old pervert with dwarfism that got caught by the police. "

Mike pulled his head back under the blanket and laughed into the mattress, leaving Blaine to grin and watch the adorable act.

"I think," Mike said lowly, "That I should make up for that mistake, Blaine. I want to know you better."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it will be cool to be able to enter into the Blaine Anderson Trivia game and come out the winner."

"Isn't it cheating to ask me?"

"Well stalking isn't really my thing but I could get my ninja garb."

There was a beat of laughter before Blaine spoke again, "what did you want to know?"

"A lot of things," his voice slowed down a little more, and Blaine tightened his grip so Mike wouldn't drop his hand.

"Like?"

"Stuff. Like what's your favorite color?"

"I think red. Yours?"

"All," Blaine grip was the only one bind their hands now. "All of them. I don't," he hummed the end of the words. Hearing Michael's voice so calm and relaxed was stirring for Blaine, it caused his chest to warm at thoughts of always hearing Michael's voice so natural, "don't want any of the other colors to feel bad." And then Michael buried his head into a pillow and a quiet bout of soft breathing escaped him.

As Blaine started drifting off and his fingers loosened around Mike's he smiled to himself for two reasons; one was the sudden realization as to why Mike had so many colorful clothes, it was almost silly how simple it was; the other was simply out of the happiness of finding his Sunshine.

He woke to someone prodding his shoulder and attempted to smack away the hand. He felt like he was only asleep for a few short minutes and so he gripped onto his comforter, determined to avoid waking up as long as possible.

"Blaine Anderson, there is a nice comfy bed waiting for you," a voice whispered in his ear. And suddenly the hard floor beneath him seemed ten times more flat and uncomfortable. He peeled his eyes open and grumbled as he pushed himself off the floor, his blanket slid off his shoulders and he grumbled a little.

"Did I hear something about a bed?" He looked around for the source of the voice and saw that Sam was sitting next him with a lazy kind of smile on his face.

"Yeah, we got another room…so two more beds…so sleep," Blaine could tell that he was half-awake as well.

Blaine followed Sam to their neighboring room, his blanket dragging behind him.

"Why did Michael get another room?" Blaine mumbled as he sank into his new sheets and pillows.

"It wasn't him," Sam replied just as groggily. "It was Sebastian."

"That fortune teller kid that likes you?"

"What? No, he's a friend. I'm not gay."

"I never said that I thought you were gay, Sam."

They had their backs turned to each other as they spoke.

"Okay, but I'm not."

"No need to act like calling you gay is a severe 18th centenary accusation that is punishable by death, Sam. So, is Sebby here?" Blaine plumbed up his pillows and buried his head in the fresh linen.

"Okay, you're spending too much time with Mike if you're starting to talk like that. And no, he isn't here. He paid with card over the phone and the receptionist called in to tell us so," Sam's voice was set in a yawn. "I'm spending tomorrow morning with Mikey so I want my sleep, be quiet."

Blaine pouted and sighed heavily.

"Sam?"

"Whaaaat?" Sam groaned in response.

"I like being your friend, okay?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, Blaine could hear Sam's steady breathing and wondered if the latter was trying to feign sleep only seconds after responding to him.

"You're a good guy, Blaine," was Sam's final response.

"You're the better guy," he mumbled so quietly that he was sure Sam didn't hear his words. It was a momentary lapse of hopelessness that was quickly taken over by the memory of Mike's arms around him and the soothing smell of cinnamon and lemons.

()

Laughter was Blaine's awakening. As he opened his eyes, confused by the darkness, he felt his body weaken and call him back to the world of sleep. But the laughter continued and his eyes did not shut though the blue pale light shining through the faded hotel curtains told him that sunrise wasn't ready to show just yet. He glanced over at the clock and groaned loudly before sitting up even more to stare at the culprits. Sam and Mike were together at the door with smiles on their faces. They were dressed in gym clothes.

"Whasgoinon?" Blaine mumbled.

"You woke him up, Mikey!"

Blaine mumbled a little and buried his head back into his pillow. He felt someone climb onto his bed. A hand dug into his hair and ruffled it. "Blaine, you are dreaming. This interruption never happened," a familiar voice whispered into his ear, causing flickers of chills to run down his back.

"Why would I dream up two boys in form-fitting tank-tops standing inside my room?" Blaine paused in thought after saying that and continued. "Wait, yeah. This could be a dream."

A small chuckle roused him even more out of his sleep as it echoed close to him. He almost jumped out of his sheets at the shock it gave him. Instead he sat up again and turned toward Michael. The latter was resting his forearms on his own legs. Michael outfit was exposing more skin than Blaine was expecting. His eyes dragged down the well-muscled legs to the yellow shoe-laced tennis shoes buried into his comforter.

"Alright, off the bed," Blaine said with a little more liveliness in his voice. "No shoes on the bed," he pushed at Mike, but it was useless as Michael was pretty much unmovable. His teasing smile appeared as Blaine continued to stubbornly shove at him. Blaine felt a blush heat his cheeks as his hands tirelessly shoved at Mike's body. He owned his weakness to the fact that he was still lethargic.

"Come on, Mike," Sam tugged at his friends arm, "let Blaine sleep."

Blaine hummed a small thank you and returned to the fluffy comfort of his pillows and comforter.

What seemed like moments later someone was poking his head, repeatedly.

"No, Michaaaaaaaaaael, let me sleep," his words were slurred and quiet.

"Oooh? Was _Michaaaaael_ in your bed earlier?"

He jumped away and nearly elbowed Kurt in the stomach, out of surprise. He glared at Kurt as he rubbed at his heavy eyes while the morning light blurred into his vision. "What, Kurt? I'm sleeping."

"Seeing as Mike and Sam have decided to go on a morning run, I have decided to come over here and get the details, spare nothing from these ears," Kurt was sitting on the edge of Blaine's bed with his legs crossed and his hands cupped up to his ears in a cute, mouse-like gesture. Kurt was already dressed, his face clean from his rigorous morning cleansing routine, and his hair perfectly done. This reminded Blaine that he had his own getting ready to do before Michael came back..

Blaine mumbled and rolled out the other side of the bed. "Let me get ready."

Still a little annoyed with Kurt, Blaine took his time in the bathroom fixing his hair and getting dressed.

When he first looked at himself in the mirror it was just a glance, but he had to double take and pause to take a longer look. He hardly recognized the boy he was seeing. He looked like a boy with something more than good looks and a baseless, malleable personality. He could see a spark of real life and purpose in his eyes and warm cheeks that redden when he thought of the former night's events.

It was only the good occurrences that really passed through his mind as he gelled his curls and went through his own, less extensive, moisturizing routine. Never had love made him feel so full of worth. Of course, the dull ache it gave him to even think of the high chances that Michael was in love with Sa-someone else, or just uninterested in Blaine, was there, slowly scratching away at his happiness. But the new events were still fresh and the downfall of that block of happiness seemed like it would be ages away.

He smiled at himself and straightened the collar on his shirt. Blaine felt like he was glowing.

"So, details?" Kurt begged as soon as Blaine walked out of the bathroom.

Blaine told Kurt almost everything that occurred the night before-leaving out some of the more crucial points, like how he almost kissed Michael, the entire thing about Mike confessing that he was a long lost imaginary friend, and, more importantly, that Blaine felt any love toward Michael at all. He merely told Kurt what he thought Kurt really wanted to hear, about the romantics of the scenery and the confirming of their friendship as binding and important.

"You just confirmed that you guys were friends…again," Kurt leaned against the wall and sighed before smiling a little, "but friends are good."

"Yeah, friends are good," Blaine smiled as well and placed a hand on his friends shoulder. "Even the friends that slap you," Kurt pouted in response. "It's cool, Kurt. We're cool. Karofsky and I though? That still needs some time."

Kurt pushed his lips together in a little thoughtful hum before nodding in understanding.

Blaine mumbled a short response and walked toward the hotel window. The soft material enhanced the floating feeling in his stomach that remained from the night before. Blaine paused a minute to enjoy the sensation before pulling them open and letting the bright New York City light into the room. The streets were still wet from the rain but the sun was quickly drying it up.

But his happiness was slowly peeling away as he grew more aware of the other feelings stirring inside him. As if on cue, Mike and Sam appeared in his sight. Smiles were clear on their faces as they walked across the street toward the hotel that Blaine was watching them from. He stepped back and let the curtains fall out of his hands so the morning light disappeared. It was a minor twinge of jealously but it was enough to bring Blaine back to earth and away from the _strong_ hope of a happy ending. The hope was weakened but it was not gone. It was far from gone, no matter how much his logic told him to let it go.

"How do I look?" Blaine asked as he turned back toward his friend. He tugged his vest down and brought his hands up to his hair to touch at the freshly gelled curls. He wondered if it would be better to just go back to his old hairstyle, even though his hair was shorter now and looked less manic, he still wondered if it would help Mike get to know who he was in that moment and not who he was. But Blaine was also having trouble defining who he was, so why would a hairstyle help Mike if it didn't help him? _It's too late to fix it now if I wanted to anyway._

"Did you want the truth or did you want me to lie to you?"

Blaine pulled a face, his nose scrunching up and his head tilting to the side as he considered his options, "Truth."

Kurt paused for a moment, his hand rising up to his own chin so he reminded Blaine of some kind of stylist observing one of his models. Blaine held in a laugh.

"I like the colors that you chose, beautiful for the fall season," Kurt reached forward to straighten the bow tie and then patted down the shoulders of Blaine's burgundy shirt. Kurt then directed his eyes to Blaine's hair and twitched his lips up in thought. "Hmmm, you know how I feel about the hairstyle but I think Mike likes it that way so you're good. And now the rest, " Kurt looked him up and down, his hand still on his chin, "very nice. Now, I don't know Mike as well as I know the rest of the glee club but I think that he likes the darker colors, not on himself of course, but look at Tina."

Blaine raised his eyebrows and laughed. "I'm not going to start wearing fingerless gloves and lacey black shirts just to impress a guy, Kurt."

"Never said you should. I just think darker clothing sticks out to him more. Because it's so contrasted to what he wears."

"Given deep thought to this?"

"I give deep thought to what everyone wears, Blaine." Kurt said in a somber tone.

Blaine pulled at the sleeves of his shirt and then looked back at up at Kurt, "rolled up or kept down?"

"Rolled up is more casual and masculine, you don't want him thinking that you got dressed up right?"

He nodded in response and quickly rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. He finished just in time for the clicking sound of the door being unlocked and jumped frantically at the desk chair to take a seat. He crossed propped his legs up on the desk, trying to look casual and unprepared.

Sam walked in, the door shut behind him. He looked over to see Kurt, still standing, and Blaine, with a big grin on his lips. "Um…hey guys," he waved and then dodged into the bathroom, "Gotta get out of these clothes."

Kurt raised an eyebrow and then looked over at Blaine. They exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.

"And into other clothes! I'm not going to walk around naked!" Sam called from behind the door.

Before either of them could respond someone knocked on the door. Blaine looked pleadingly at Kurt. With an exaggerated sigh, Kurt walked toward the door and pulled it open.

Mike was standing behind the door with a bag in his hand and a smile on his face. "Hey, I just needed to bring Sam's clothes over."

"What happened to you?" Kurt squealed as he backed away from Michael. Blaine sat up and peered around Kurt to see that Mike was soaking wet from his stomach downwards.

"It was nothing really." Blaine forced nonchalance relaxed into a warm smile as Michael blushed and dropped Sam's bag next to the bathroom door.

"This idiot decided that he needed to get into a pond at Central Park to save a bee," Sam said as he opened the door to retrieve his bag. He acted quickly as Mike looked like he was going to push him.

Blaine felt his body grow warm at the thought of Michael Chang still rescuing bee's from watery graves. His smile grew when Mike looked over at him, obviously bashful about the whole situation.

"Bees are important to this environment, guys. Plus," Mike knocked on the bathroom door, "we don't want bees to go missing, that would literally mean the end of the world." Sam laughed in response.

Though Blaine did not get the joke he still felt the happiness of Mike's own laughter fill him with an ease. "Some things never change, huh Michael?"

Mike's dimple creased in as his smile grew. He crossed his arms over his wet torso and leaned against the threshold of the bathroom door. Blaine suddenly grew shy, aware of how much of Mike's attention he had in that moment. He felt a blush warm his cheeks and his own timidity contributed to even more coloring in his cheeks and he forced himself to look away to observe the molding around the bottom of the walls. He was embarrassed that he was getting embarrassed, one of the most humiliating feelings for him.

"I guess I better get dressed into something different," with that Mike was out of the room before Blaine could get a better look at him.

()

They had one more day left to spend in New York City before a day long drive back to their homes. It was spent all around the city, in restaurants and one "under 21" club, in Central Park and Broadway, and in their hotel swimming pool. They even managed to see a production of Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical, courtesy of Sebastian Smythe and one of his attempts to woo Sam Evans-one of the many problems that occur when someone is trying to seduce someone they hardly know, you don't know what they like. (Luckily the many deaths in the musical caught Sam's interest.)

Through out the last day of their trip Blaine and Mike continued to work on their friendship. They asked each other ridiculous questions, sat together at every table, and walked together while everyone else went ahead. They even decided to share a room their last night in the hotel and ended up getting only a few hours of sleep because of their decision to build a fort out of blankets and sheets and to watch Singing In the Rain, which they sang their hearts out to.

Blaine wouldn't have it any other way. Friendship before anything else was just what he needed; he didn't feel the pressure to make their relationship romantic right away like he had done with so many other guys before. Instead he lived in the moments that they shared as friends, something that he didn't get with the other's as soon as he discovered that there was more than friendly feelings on his side. Of course he never really had the feelings of friendship toward Mike. Perhaps that was why he chose to take his time with everything. To him it didn't matter why he felt the way he felt, what mattered was that he actually felt it. That was good enough for him.

But when it came to the early morning in New York City and they were back in their van for a long half-day ride home, Blaine made sure that Sam was the one sitting in the front with Michael. He was aware of the importance of Mike's company to Sam, having learned the true value of such a presence. So it was not a great sacrifice to him to take a seat in the back next to Kurt. Tina and Wes were on such intimate terms by the time the trip was coming to an end that they decided to share the back row (which didn't really surprise Blaine).

He felt like he was entering a new part of his life as he leaned his head against the window next to him and watched the sun rise. He knew it what was in store for him when he got home but he was still happy. It wasn't _only _thanks to Michael's subtle council during their talks together the day before, but also to his own determination to focus and fix the things that needed to be fixed. He didn't know if this new part of his life was going to be with or without the support of his father, but he knew that either way he would still have shoulder to cry on.

Blaine breathed in and out and placed his hand on his stomach to feel his own life under his fingers, assuring himself that he was still there and that everything that happened to him in that week wasn't a dream.


	17. The Three Boys of Lima

**Authors Note: This chapter has not been edited by my beta.**

**Part 1 of 3**

He watched Mike's fingers tap the along to steering wheel as _Panic! At the Disco_ blasted out of the van speakers. His gaze ran up to Mike's face, his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were thin and tight in a look of concentration. He knew that it wasn't the road ahead of them that was taking up Mike's thoughts in that moment and not knowing what was wrong made him uncomfortable.

"What's up?" Sam asked, sitting up to pay attention to his friend. Mike looked over at him and then back at the road, they were the last two in the van and Sam could see Mike's house as they turned the last corner. A small smile came to Mike's lips and Sam owned it up to a sort of reassurance.

He wasn't as sure what Mike was thinking as he used to be. Mike used to be so much on the surface with his thoughts but since Blaine he had retreated into some sort of secret shell of small smiles and unidentifiable sighs. Sam knew it wasn't Mike's fault, and that Mike had told him all he could already, but it still made him angry that he couldn't read his friend's mind.

"I'm a little worried about Blaine," Mike said. Sam winced; he didn't really want to talk about Blaine. "We both know he didn't really leave his home on happy terms."

"Dude, that's why I told you that he shouldn't have come with us," Sam replied with a heavy sigh. "The longer he waited the harder it got."

Sam had originally wanted Blaine to come along because he needed Mike to finally tell Blaine about who he was. He was tired of what Mike had turned into after finding that stupid map in Blaine's house. Mike was anxious and obsessed and could hardly concentrate on anything for a week after the incident.

"_It's hard to explain, Sam,"_ Mike looked at him and then back at the paper folded neatly in his hands. _"He was the first real friend I ever had and I always thought that he left me."_

"Mike, you were eleven."

"_I know it sounds ridiculous, you're totally thinking logically but I'm totally panicking,_" Sam remembered how Mike looked like he was going to jump right out of skin while they were sitting in Mike's room after coming home from Blaine's house. _"I never really forgot him. It's surprising and crazy but he means-_meant_ a lot to me."_

Sam was yanked out of his remembrance when Mike finally answered him.

"I didn't want to force him to talk to his dad," Mike pulled the van to a stop in front of the house. "I don't know both sides of the argument but I do know that Blaine needs to talk to his dad when he's not in hysterics, okay?"

Sam chewed on his bottom lip as he considered Mike's words. He remembered Blaine's face when he opened the door to him a few weeks before. The boy looked harassed, angry, and depressed. His eyes were shifting about like he was trying not to cry, but he did cry eventually when Sam told him to have a seat on Mike's bed. It was that day that Sam discovered that perhaps he had pushed the friendship too much, the way they looked at each other as Mike wiped Blaine's tears.

"Yeah, you could be right," Sam said with a pout. He couldn't help but think that Mike was worried more about Blaine because of his feelings for the latter and not just the friendship shared between them. Of course any sensible person would be worried for their friend, but something about Mike's dry lips and the way he kept checking his phone told Sam that these nervous feelings were inspired by feelings different from friendship. No matter how Mike denied it, Sam knew what it was like to be in love.

At least he thought he did.

Sam had been in relationship after relationship ever since he was old enough to understand what dating was. Every one of them ended badly. He knew it was because he was never attracted to girls, but it felt almost like a necessity to date a girl. It wasn't a matter of being in love or attracted, it was about status.

But with Mike it was attraction and something close to love. Sam felt like it could be love, he wondered if it was. He loved things about Mike, like his smile and his dancing. But he couldn't decide if what he felt was actual love. That was a thing that bothered him as well, alongside Mike's constant change in attitude toward life and Blaine. Sam was very back and forth in his emotions toward his friend.

"He's going to have a talk with his dad, you know," Mike pushed his door open and continued talking, "We talked about it."

Sam followed Mike as he shook his head in disapproval at Mike's interference. He pulled his bag out of the back of the van and looked questioningly at his friend before saying, "What did you say?"

"We're home," Mike called out as they entered the hallway. There was no response. Sam shifted past Mike and dropped his bag in the hallway. "I guess no one is here." He checked his watch and peered around the doorways for a sign of someone else.

"Mike, what did you say to him?" Sam asked a little more wariness in his tone. Mike shrugged, his bags were still weighing down his arms, so he looked kind of silly while doing it.

"I just told him that family is important."

"More important than what?"

"No, no, I didn't say it was more important than something else," Mike glanced over at Sam with a meaningful look, making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Sorry, dude. You know how this stuff gets me on edge."

"What stuff? Parent's approval of their son being gay? Or Parent's approval in general?"

"Just shut up, Mike." Sam said grudgingly as he pulled his bag over his shoulders and walked up the stairs. Sam disliked how up front Mike was about some things. He valued family acceptance above everything, he worked tirelessly to win his father's approval, and involved his mom in everything. So Sam didn't expect him to understand why he couldn't just tell his parents that he was gay.

"Sorry," Mike said slowly as they entered his room. Sam threw his stuff on his mattress and followed it down with a soft plop! "Did you have a good time?" Mike asked, his voice tentative.

Sam thought about the trip and felt several things. Jealously, annoyance, and different levels of happiness was what he felt. It could have gone better if things ended in friendship with Blaine and Mike, but it all seemed up in the air with the two of them, even more so than before. It was Sam's own up and down internal debate about their relationship that annoyed him, too.

On one hand, Sam wanted them to establish that friendship they built years go so Mike would stop obsessing over it and see what was right in front of him. Knowing Mike's shy demeanor about relationships Sam even tried to tease and pressure Mike about his feelings for Blaine just to scare him away from the idea a little. It didn't have the effect he wanted and he ended up questioning his own knowledge of who Mike was.

On the other hand, Sam felt guilty. Selfish device and mischievousness was his game in this, he was trying to manipulate things to his favor when Blaine really did deserve a chance. Blaine was a nice guy, though he was a little abrasive and tense sometimes. Sam enjoyed his friendship with Blaine when Mike had been mostly distracted since that fateful day at former's house.

He didn't know what he wanted to do, really. Should he let Mike go? Should he just make a move and see where that brought the two of them? No. He couldn't do that. Sam contemplated this as he looked up at his friend lying back on his bed and staring up at the white-painted ceiling. Sam realized that he could destroy that friendship with a few single words.

There was a time when Sam felt the warm feeling of catching Mike's lingering gaze, but that was months before Blaine came into the picture. Sam knew that he had missed his chance out of his own fear that he was just seeing things where they didn't belong, after all Mike was dating Tina at the time.

"I had an okay time."

"Just okay?"

"It wasn't awesome, but it didn't suck."

"That sucks though. I mean we have been planning it all summer and you didn't have a good time. Even though you had a hot guy drooling over you."

"Yeah, drooling _his money_ all over me. The last thing I want is some rich guy rubbing his wealth in my face all of the time."

"I doubt that is what he meant to do, Sam. He doesn't know you that well. What if he was just trying to impress you?"

"Only an idiot would fall for a guy that thinks money is everything," Sam pouted and hugged his pillow. In a way money _was_ everything to him. Perhaps he meant to say that he wouldn't fall for a person that spent it so carelessly, like there weren't better things he could be doing with that wealth.

"Sorry," Mike mumbled a second time and the room was silent for a few minutes as the two of them face away from each other and unpacked their bags.

"Hey, Mike," Sam said on a random thought.

"What?"

"Would you," he paused as he pulled out his last pair of pants. He studied the worn jeans in his hands as he thought about how he was going to word his question. "Would you let me call you Michael if I wanted to?"

There was a small beat of time that felt like an eternity before Mike responded. "Of course, Sammy."

Sam's mouth drew up in a small smile and he placed the jeans away. Mike would never really know why that meant so much to him. It seemed almost like a sacred thing to be able to call his friend by his full name even if he never really wanted to. The opportunity was still there. He was still equal with Blaine on that part. It didn't give him hope, it gave him comfort. Knowing that Mike valued him in some way gave him a smile. Of course he wanted more, but he didn't know how badly he wanted it.

He could feel the excitement of feeling something for Mike ebb away each time Mike's eyes brightened at the mere mention of Blaine. He couldn't decide if he liked it or not. Some moments he would be roused by attraction to the extent of wanting to kiss Mike right in the middle of a crowd, but other moments he found himself missing being able to feel that way more often, craving it really.

They remained in silence until there was a rustle of sound downstairs. Sam and Mike stood up and moved quickly to the door. Mike pushed Sam aside and laughed as he tumbled down the stairs. Sam shook his head in response and followed slowly behind.

"Michael?" Sam recognized Mrs. Chang's voice and then heard a few smooching noises, telling Sam that she had just placed some kisses on Mike's cheeks.

He met his own parents at the door, their arms laden with groceries. He rushed forward to ease their burden and moved with them into the kitchen. "Where are Stacy and Stevie?" He asked in a low voice as they placed the food on the kitchen counter.

"They are staying over at your friend's house, Rachel. Her dads are excellent babysitters," Sam's mother scrunched up her nose in a genuine smile and chuckled a little. He beamed in response, glad that they were finally making friends with other adults. "We wanted to make dinner tonight," she continued as she pulled out some cans of food. "We have a surprise for you."

He felt a rush of joy that reminded him of being a child again before apprehension ceased him, "is it a good surprise?"

"Of course, Sammy," his father said with a laugh. "We wanted to keep the kids away tonight so they didn't give it away."

Mike walked in with his mother and a big smile on his face and Sam glared at him, it was a smile that he recognized; Mike was keeping something from him. He focused his glare but Mike simply shook his head and laughed a little as he nudged his mother lovingly. She nudged him back and placed her brown bags of groceries down on the table.

They were soon pushed out of the kitchen so the parents could start preparing food. Sam's mother and father had never been that good at cooking and so he managed an amused smile as Mrs. Chang instructed them around the pots and the pans and strange culinary machines that normal kitchens didn't have.

"Why can't I help?" Mike called out as he and Sam hovered in the hallway.

"Because you are a terrible cook, there is no hope for you," Mrs. Chang replied with an archness that reminded Sam extraordinarily of her son when he teased.

Mike turned around with a dramatic pout and moved toward the living room just as the front door was opening to reveal Mr. Chang, coming home from work. Mike's smile faded a little as he faced his father and Sam felt instantly uncomfortable.

Michael Chang Sr. was a good father, he was good natured and intelligent, but there were moments when Sam could feel the tension of disapproval radiating off him. This happened more when Mike was goofing off or talking about glee club. Sam took a small step back and watched with anxiety as Mr. Chang examined his son.

"Hey, dad," Mike said cheerily.

"Did you clean out your mother's van?"

"No, not yet. But I will get to that right now."

"Did you have a good time?"

Mike glanced over at Sam and then back at his dad, a small, secretive smile appearing on his lips. "Yeah, I really did."

"Good, what about sp-"

"Spanish? I listened to the audio books almost every night."

Mike's father nodded his head in a approval and earned a relaxed smile from his son. "Good, I think we all know that it's good to learn another language and that your Spanish teacher isn't a very good one, right?" He laughed a little and clapped his son on the shoulder. This earned an awkward laugh from Sam and Mike, knowing that their Spanish teacher was also their beloved glee instructor. Though Sam did believe that Mr. Shuester was a pretty terrible Spanish teacher and he was sure that Mike would definitely agree with him.

"Why don't you worry about cleaning out that van later?" Mrs. Chang said as she stepped out of the kitchen to give her husband a kiss on the cheek.

Mike shrugged and looked over at his father who didn't seem to have a problem with this idea.

"You know something don't you?" Sam asked with a hopeful smile.

"I'm not telling you anything," Mike replied, smiling back at Sam with a mischievous spark in his eye.

"Oh come on."

"Nothing to say here, Sammy," Mike spun around and flopped down on the couch, his legs kicking up onto the arm rest. "If I did have something to say I'm sure it would be good news." Mike's smile was tight-lipped and his eyes sparked with a teasing brightness.

Sam groaned and moved to sit down on Mike's legs, luckily the latter predicted this and picked up his legs and dropped them back down onto Sam's lap. He had given up, knowing that he was going to find out soon enough but it still irked him to have to wait for good news when his life was so full of bad news.

The two of them waited for a little while longer until the scent of freshly cooked vegetables and chicken wafted into the living room and the calm clinking of glasses against each other sounded in their ears. Sam perked up and moved quickly to the kitchen, the longing for a good meal after a whole trip of poorly-lit diners and fast food. Mike followed quickly behind him and the two of them sat next to each other. Sam looked up at his parents, who were sitting across from him and Mike, and then from Mr. Chang to his wife, who were sitting on either side of the ends of the table. He felt like he was on a really awkward triple date.

While they ate, Sam noticed that Mike's phone was buzzing and that the latter was playing with the edge of his pants pocket as if he was tempted to reach in and check his phone. Sam was tempted to just tell Mike to pull out his phone but knew that Mike's father wouldn't allow it. He really had other things to worry about besides Mike's buzzing phone anyway, and he looked over at his parents with eagerness.

His mother returned his look with a slight shake of the head and gestured for him to finish his meal. There were several things Sam missed about living alone with only his family, like being able to talk during meals. It was never an established rule at the Chang residence, but he always felt an undeniable shiver of disapproval whenever someone spoke up at the dinner table. Even his younger brother and sister remained silent just because of the tension it built up.

"I think it would be a good idea to let Mary and Dwight talk to their son alone," Mrs. Chang stood up and brushed the front of her dress down, motioning for her husband and son to follow. Mike gave Sam a sharp poke in his side before moving away. The touch didn't help with Sam's already nerve-churning stomach.

"Let's go and clean that van out, huh, Michael?"

"Sounds good, mom," Mike said a little half-heartedly. Sam didn't look around as they left but he heard the clicking sound of Mike's iPhone unlocking as the front door closed behind him, portraying that the latter had finally got to check it.

"Can I find out what's going on now?" Sam sat back in his seat and opened his mouth in a forced carefree smile.

"Well, Sam," his father started as he reached for his wife's hand. "Your mother and I have some good news, and then we have some better news."

"We're moving out," Sam's mother said before her husband could.

Sam sat up quickly in surprise. He knew that this would happen eventually but now if felt too soon. He needed time with Mike, he wasn't finished yet. _Finished with what? _

"Where are we moving?"

It was obvious that his parents were nonplussed by his lack of enthusiastic reaction but they carried on smiling.

"It's smaller than our house before, but bigger than the Chang's basement," his further said with a laugh. "It's not far from your school, a little three bedroom house with a nice back yard."

He felt relief escape into him as he discovered that he would not be completely uprooted again. "Did you get a good job then?" He asked both of them, not knowing which one of them was going to be the family bread winner this time.

"That is the better news," his father drew himself up proudly and continued. "While you were away, Michael sat me down and offered me a job at UNOH."

He felt his mouth drop open and then shut tightly before he responded. How could his father get a job at a university? "Wait, what kind of job? I thought Mr. Chang was just a math teacher?"

"Michael is the head of the math department and is part of the dean's board. He pulled some strings and got me a job in the Automotive Technology department. I'll be teaching there next semester."

"Teaching? You're a professor?"

They both laughed in response. "No, I never got the degree for that. I'm just an instructor, but the pay will be good and I'll be going to night classes to get that degree. But I know enough about cars and engines that I passed the test and they're letting me teach." Mr. Evans worked as a mechanic before they moved to Lima, he was a very good one and the pay was enough to get Sam into a good private boarding school.

"Sam, this is good news," his mother said with a wary expression. They were both observing his stoic expression with worry.

"Yeah, it is," Sam said with a real smile pulling at his lips. He was partly expecting to wake up from this surreal reality. "I mean…this is really awesome." His smile grew as he stood up and moved around the table to embrace his mother and father, wishing that his brother and sister were here to join in. He felt like things were finally about to look up. Maybe he could be just another teenager again, though he feared that it was too late for that. Sam contemplated this as his head arched over his mother's shoulder and smiled a little, the spark of teenage life still dimly ignited in his tired eyes.

Focusing on his feelings for Mike had been a sort of outlet for him, keeping him away from the stresses he was facing with his family. Sometimes he felt that he would be stuck at dead end jobs for the rest of his life because of his early need to help provide money for the rest of his family, enabling his further education and chances at getting anywhere above his situation in life. Now he was worried that other things wouldn't fall into place.

**Part 2 of 3**

Blaine sat on the porch for about a half an hour before he could force himself to have courage to turn around and open the front door. The silence was tightening around him as he walked onto the new handmade Guatemalan rug that muffled his foot falls and the sound of his bags hitting the floor next to him. He swallowed hard and proceeded even further into his house. His father's car was there as well as his mother's but he was guessing –actually hoping—that they were outside in the garden. He buried his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone out. He was typing in Michael's number so quickly that he barely had time to stop himself. He wanted the comfort of Mike's voice, but he didn't need it. He had to be strong enough to handle this on his own.

"Uhm…I'm home?" Blaine called out weakly; his voice still echoed loudly around the great and empty hall. His stride became stronger as he moved off the long rug and neared the edge of the large steps at the end of the hallway. He felt like a little child again, naïve and a self-set innocent, as he observed the large staircase ahead of him. He was tempted to run recklessly up the carpeted steps, like a boy about to pretend he was going to climb a large, snowy mountain. He would leave his bags behind! There was no time for petty rescue missions, he would survive! Blaine almost did it, too, but a rustling of paper and a soft sort of sigh of exhaustion coming from down the hall to the right of the staircase, coming from his father's office.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed and he drew in a few breathes before backing off the first step to his own safety. He straightened his posture, brushed his hands down his sage green cardigan, and stepped toward the hallway leading to his father's office.

Many times he had walked down this hall. When he was younger he would run down the hall excitedly, practically bouncing off the walls, but as he grew and as more certificates and awards appeared on the walls and the faces changed in his pictures each walk became more slow and hesitant. Blaine closed his eyes and imagined the hallway from when he was younger, it seemed brighter back then with a kind of glow, the way the sun would light up his childhood with a creamy and soft tone. He knocked on the door, remembering when he used to run into the room without announcing it and without the fear of getting in trouble for doing so. He heard his father mutter something and recalled the times when the latter would laugh and let his son play around while he was on the phone with clients. Finally Blaine pushed the door open and found himself looking at an older version of his father with graying hair and glasses and a stack of paper in his hands, the atmosphere was sharp and thick as their eyes met.

"Hello," he said slowly. It was then that Blaine realized that he didn't really know what he was going to say, he didn't know if he was going to still be bitter, act forgiving…or ask for forgiveness.

His father blinked slowly and placed his paperwork down on the desk in front of him. Blaine moved into the room and placed his hand on the leather cushioned chair sitting in front of his father's desk and the latter nodded his head as if to say it was alright for Blaine to take a seat. For a moment Blaine almost didn't sit down in the chair, a yearning to be stubbornly rebellious surged inside of him, but he reminded himself that not sitting in a chair wasn't exactly a strong rebellion and more like a childish comeback.

He sank into the chair and clutched onto the arms, the feel of the fabric surprised him. He thought it was going to be hard and tight, but the leather had changed since he was a boy, it became soft and smooth from the years of usage. Mr. Anderson wasn't one to throw things away, and he didn't buy things cheap either. Very much like the stubborn clutch he had on tradition, Blaine's father believed that everything should be used until it turned into nothing but dust. In the case of the chair Blaine was sitting in this was a good thing, age had made the chair comfortable and soft. But it didn't stabilize Blaine's nerves, he was still shaken, bitter, and upset with his father as well as sad and disappoint in himself for screwing things up again and being dramatic.

"Your mother and I decided that you will be grounded for at least month, and when that month is up we will decide whether or not to extend your punishment," his father said in a surprisingly soft voice as he pulled his glasses off.

"That's fair," Blaine nodded, not looking away. He kept his face expressionless, remembering how Michael was always putting such a face on whenever someone asked him a serious question, in Blaine's mind it was called the "I'm-going-to-surprise-you-with-my-answer" face. A small sort of smile drew up on the corner of his mouth as he thought about that, and he sunk lower into the chair as he relaxed a bit more.

"Is there something you wish to say to me?"

"No-yes," Blaine breathed in and out, thinking about Michael again as he formed his words in his mind. Mike had told him how important his family was to him, and how family should always be important, that it meant something to strive to keep a family together. Though Blaine didn't totally agree with him, he still saw the worth in Michael's words. He didn't think that it was necessary to give up who he was and what he loved for the sake of family, which was something Mike always seemed to do with his father.

"What is it?"

"I'm gay," Blaine blurted out in a slightly raised voice. "I'm gay, I like boys," he took a deep breath. "That's just something about me and," Blaine closed his eyes tight and swallowed before he continued, wishing that he could speak as smoothly and as prepared as Michael and Kurt, "and you have to accept that. Y-you have to get that, dad." He didn't look at his father while he spoke, instead he brought his hand up to the bridge of his nose and rubbed, reminding himself of how the man sitting in front of him would act when he and his brother were too loud around the house. "I don't really know how to say this, dad. I've thought this over so many times and I just…" Blaine faltered and looked up at his father, not knowing what to expect. "I want you to be there for me and I want you to accept me."

His dad wasn't looking back, his head was bowed down and his hands were holding onto the desk in front of him. It was an image that Blaine new would be stuck in his memory, it would remain in his mind in tints of silver and light blues though in that moment the burgundy and brown shades of the furniture and books around them blurred together as Blaine's eyes started to water. His body felt weak because of his own exasperation from speaking about such things with his dad for the first time since he officially came out.

And finally Blaine's father spoke in such a soft tone that it struck Blaine with surprise, "I don't-I'm not."

Blaine was surprised again to hear his own father sounding so much like him. Jonathan Anderson was a prosecutor with so much cold smoothness in his voice that any jury could be swayed by the most ridiculous claims as long as he spoke them. Blaine used to have that smoothness about him, copying his dad used to be so easy.

"You're not what?"Blaine didn't know what made him ask the question, his voice felt like it wasn't his own, like it was in the distance and being control by someone else. This someone else sounded confident though shaken and Blaine only felt the latter emotion.

"I'm not a bad guy."

He felt as if he were choking on his own breath as he attempted to answer his father's short sentence. "Dad, I know that" was what he wanted to say. He knew his life wasn't a fair tail that had one unchanging main villain, like the witch that locked a child in a tower or the wolf that guiltlessly ate humans alive. Moreover, Blaine never viewed his father as a villain. When his mind did stray to such fanciful things he considered his father sad and mind-controlled man that watched over Blaine. He was surprised again that his father was reacting like Blaine considered him a villain.

"I have tried to show you that you are my son and nothing else matters, I know I didn't do a very good job and I'm sorry."

Blaine blinked slowly, when had his dad ever tried to show that they were father and son? He could not think of a single instance.

"My dad raised me to believe that what you are is unnatural."

"Unnatural?" Blaine's voice raised, he was ready to be offended. When the rest of the sentence was processed in Blaine's tired mind he did find himself offended. "'What' I am? I'm not a 'what' or a 'thing', I'm a person. I'm a 'who' not a 'what' just like you," the words felt odd on his tongue like he was speaking in a riddle; so he continued, Michael's face appearing in his mind as he did. "My sexuality isn't all of me; being gay isn't some kind of personality trait; you know who I am."

"To be completely honest," Jonathan Anderson started, his voice suddenly as cool as it could be. "I don't think I have known who you are for years."

"Maybe you should have tried," Blaine muttered, crossing his arms and feeling amazingly like a pouting child.

"How can I when you won't even give me the time of day, Blaine?"

"Because you look at me and treat me like I'm some kind of freak. You said yourself that you think my sexuality is some kind of teenage phase I can grow out of."

"I never said th-"

"_I just wish he would snap out of it and date a nice girl,_" Blaine quoted his father with so much venom that he had managed to convince himself for that moment that his father was the villain. That his father wasn't just ignorant, stubborn, and confused, but that he really didn't want to see Blaine happy and wanted his own son to be miserable. But that waved passed and Blaine accepted that his dad didn't mean to cause harm.

Blaine knew that his father cared for him. He knew that his dad had paid to transfer him to a safer school because he cared, and his father pulled him out of therapy because Blaine would come home from it in tears every week. They still managed to watch football together, even if they sat on different sides of the room. More importantly, Blaine loved his father and wanted to make him proud.

He wiped away at his fresh tears and looked down at the pictures on the desk in front of him.

"I never meant for you to hear that," was the reply to his accurate quotation. He was nonplussed, his dad knew what he was referring to without any more detail. Did he think about those words as much as Blaine did?

"You shouldn't have said it regardless."

"I know."

"Then why?"

"Because that was what I wanted."

"You want me to pretend like I'm a normal boy that picks up all the girls, like you did, like Coop does," Blaine's tone was blatant disgust.

"No, I wanted you to be safe."

"I know that, dad," Blaine responded quickly, "but that's not the only reason."

"It wasn't my only reason, I'll admit," Mr. Anderson sat back in his chair and moved his hands over his eyes. "But things change when you realize that you can lose something you love because of your own stubborn ideas. You really scared me, Blaine."

Blaine opened his mouth in surprise, "I told you where I was going."

"And I didn't know if you were telling the truth or if everything was going to end up alright with you."

"You could have called!"

"Would you have answered?"

He paused, glaring angrily before relaxing his face into a stubborn pout, "no, I wouldn't have. But it would have been nice to see that stupid little light flash a few times just to know that my dad would at least try."

There was a heavy silence after that, the thickness of the tension carrying on in the air was causing Blaine to feel uncomfortable and his eyes were starting to sting. He sighed heavily and moved a hand to his mouth to keep it from shaking. He didn't know if this was the end of their conversation or if his dad had something else to say.

A few moments more and that cool voice spoke again, but it wasn't steady. It wasn't as strong and stubborn; it showed more emotion than before. "I don't care anymore, Blaine. I don't care if you are gay, I just want you to be safe and I want you to be my son." Blaine looked up to see that there was a shine in his eyes, as if he were about to cry as well.

"Okay dad," Blaine's voice cracked and his dark eyebrows furrowed, "I am your son." His hardened expression slowly disappeared into a small smile. It wasn't the perfect conversation. But Blaine hoped that it was the first of many emotional and awkward conversations with his father. This one ended with a simple handshake and two weak smiles.

"You're still grounded."

"I know," he responded with a loud sigh.

"And that means I don't want you hanging around the friends you went on that little road trip with, for at least two months."

"What? Dad? No!" Blaine opened his mouth in shock and his eyes went wide with ready pleading. Just then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he thanked his own idea of turn the ringer off. Blaine resisted the urge to reach for his phone. He hoped that his dad didn't remember that he owned the phone; he also hoped that his dad wasn't going to ask for it later. "I mean, come on. They're my friends…"

"You can talk to them at school when it starts."

"But,"_ they don't go to my school_ "alright, I understand."

()

He threw his bags onto his bed and spun around to sit down on the edge of it. He looked around his wooden furniture and burgundy bed spread and realized just how much his color scheme resembled his dad's. It didn't disturb him to have something in common with his father, he never found himself perturbed by the rare instances he found similarities. After all, his personality was his own and yet it was everyone else's as well, he absorbed traits from everyone he cared for and sometimes warped them with his own mind and imagination. It didn't bother him that he was made up from bits of everyone, when his whole was his own completely. He imagined that was how everyone built their personalities, through the people around them and how they translated into someone's thought process and were expressed by them with their own voice.

After that lapse of thought he pulled out his phone to see, much to his pleasure, that Michael sent a text to him a few minutes beforehand.

**-Hey, Blaine. I was just wondering how everything is going?-**

** -Everything is great! Though I am grounded. :( I'm not really surprised by it, to be honest.-**

** -For how long?-**

** -A month. That is if I am good. They might make it longer. Also, I'm not allowed to talk to you anyone else that went on our trip for 2 months but I managed to sneak my phone away for now. :D-**

Blaine set his phone down as he moved to unpack his belongings. The first bag held his clothing (bowties, cardigans, skinny jeans and slacks and so on and so forth). At the bottom he pulled out his practically unused hair accessories, which he used to cling to like righteous totems.

After checking for a reply from Michael, there was none, Blaine headed for the shower, planning on doing his hair fully after weeks of leaving it practically wild, and not caring that it was already the evening and he would be washing it in a few more hours.

Shivering at the cold tiles beneath his bare feet, Blaine was quick to turn the heat up in the shower. He let the warm water pour over his body for what felt like minutes, until his hands moved up into his tangled and soaking hair to brush it back a little. Though its length was shortened now he still felt the need to treat it like it was a little longer, like the dramatic effect it could have.

His lips closed together as he vaguely hummed some of the notes of a song he heard at the showing of _Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical_. Not completely sure of the lyrics, Blaine decided not to sing. But he thought of the songs relevance to his fresh new life. Of course the song was song by a prostitute that was killed a few minutes after the song, but the tragedy didn't strike away the meaning of the lyrics that expressed the hope of a new life, new world, and…a new love. He promised himself to look up the words to the song after he was done.

When Blaine picked up his phone again he was surprised to see that he had two new texts waiting for him. When he pulled them up he found that they were all from Michael, and that they were all continuations of the same text, except for the first one.

**-Ah, man. That sucks.-**

** -I'm really sorry. I never should have made you go with us, that was really stupid of me and now look where it has landed you and I. You'll be grounded and I won't be able to talk to you for two months. This was really stupid of me. Please explain to your father that it was my fault, that I made you come. I know that would probably mean a few more months before I'm allowed to talk to you, but at least you won't have to go without everyone else for two months. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I'm really going to miss you and everything. This is all my fault.-**

Blaine read and re-read the second text a few times, not knowing whether to frown at Michael's worrisome text ramble or grin with happiness that Mike went as far as to say that he was _really going to miss_ Blaine. He decided that the latter action was better, since the feelings were stronger. He gripped his phone, not wanting to make Mike wait for the answer, and began to text back as fast as he could.

**-Michael, seriously. Calm down. I'll be fine and so will you. This isn't your fault because I wanted to go and if I read another thing about it I will hand my phone into my dad.- **He sent that first one before quickly sending another one. **–I'm really going to miss you too, Michael.-**

**-He's going to find out that you have it eventually, then where will we be?-**

** -Email?-**

** -I guess…-**

** -Stop it.-**

** -What?-**

** -Stop blaming yourself. I know you are!-**

** -Okay fine. :(-**

Blaine refrained from telling Michael how cute he thought he was being, and started to do his hair after sending a text back, not wanting to break their conversation.

**-Thank you, Michael.-**

He combed his hair down and smiled to himself, remembering the last time he talked to Michael while doing his hair. He wouldn't call now, afraid that if his dad passed his room he would hear him talking. Blaine put a small amount of gel in his hand and rubbed it through the wet curls, slicking them down and calming them, his routine was still in his hands like it had never left.

-So when you said that everything was great what did you mean? Everything went well with your father, despite the fact that you're grounded-

**-Yeah, things went pretty well. Things are perfect, but we're building up to that.-**

** -That's really good. I'm so happy that things are working out for you. What's next on your list?-**

Blaine read the text and then felt heat burn his cheeks. He told Mike about his system earlier; first, he needed to find Sunshine; check; then, he needed to confront his dad; check. Next…well, Blaine could never reveal that to Michael, but secretly inside of him he knew that his next goal was to increase his relationship with Michael, whether they become good friends…or something else. But Blaine didn't really think he had it in him to be Mike's friend in the long run.

**-Win Nationals this year.- **Blaine lied, he wasn't as interested in the Warblers as he used to be. Of course he cared for his friends and wanted them to be happy, but he having been in far superior company all summer, Blaine couldn't consider the groups relationship with him as significantly as he used to..

** - I can't let you!-**

** -Determined to do me wrong?-**

** -No, not that. It's my senior year and ND has to win.-**

** -Ah, come on…just let us win this one. It's not that big of a deal. :P-**

** -It's a lot more than that. This will be last chance to really achieve something by doing something that I love. Dancing, you know.-**

** -Lies! You'll have the rest of your life.-**

Minutes went by before Mike's response occurred and Blaine jumped when it vibrated on the counter in front of him. He was just finishing up with his hair when it buzzed and he moved back into his room before checking the text.

**-Are you excited for school?- **

** -Kind of. You?-**

** -It's going to be busy, I'll tell you that.-**

** -I imagine it will be, Mr. enough-college-credit-in-high-school-to-be-a-junior-in-college!-**

** -Wish me luck?-**

** -Absolutely. I'll wish you all of the luck.-**

** -Thank you, Blaine. I think that will do me a lot of good.-**

He smiled happily, humming the notes to that song he hardly knew again as he started to unpack his other bag, aiming to find a certain book of fairy tales before anything else.

**Part 3 of 3**

There wasn't much to clean, from Michael's point of view. He made the habit of cleaning up the messes that the rest of the group had made every morning by taking the van to the gas station to get it vacuumed out. But Michael Chang Sr. had a brighter eye for crumbs and strands of blue hair. So Mike found himself stuck with their vacuum and a strange sort of revenge plot brewing against Tina's hair.

Luckily Mike had things to ponder about as he shoved the vacuum into all of the tiniest nooks and crannies of the carpeted van floor. He had Blaine to worry about. Blaine, the rebellious teenager that would risk being grounded for a longer allotted amount of time just to keep his phone, was his central worry. But Blaine was recently all Michael could really think about. His focuses elsewhere were mildly forced and always ended with him making a bizarre connection to Blaine. As a fresh example in Michael's memory, Puck had earlier sent him several texts about the distress of his longest standing girlfriend breaking up with him because he wasn't pale enough to be Edward Cullen; all Mike could think about was Blaine and when he was upset over Kurt breaking up with him (for a much more substantial reasons than a lack of glittering white abs…Mike hoped).

But Mike was also selfish. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to talk to Blaine any more if he gave up his phone, Mike only subtly hinted his worries, not really wanting Blaine to do the right and respectful thing.

**-I forgot to tell you! Sam's dad got a job!-** Another thing that should have been more important to Michael and should have been the first thing he mentioned in their conversation. He felt momentarily guilty for letting his focus on Blaine pull him away from the good news about his best friend.

**-Really? That's awesome!-**

** -Yeah! They are going to start moving out soon.-**

It took a few minutes for Blaine to respond and Michael owned it up to Blaine trying to lessen the risk of being caught.

**-That's a good thing. Even though you won't be able to spend as much time with him, it's good that he will be living on his own with his family again. I'm sure having you always support him was emasculating for him.-**

He read over the text a few times, confused. He never said he was sad about Sam's departure from his home. Of course he was going to miss their _Doctor Who_ marathons and Sam's commentary on Mike's third-person shooter skills while he played _Mass Effect 2, _but he was in no way upset about the Evans family getting out of their dependant state. Michael didn't think that he was necessarily "emasculating" Sam by helping him with money problems either.

**-I know it's a good thing, Blaine. I'm very happy for all of them. And I was just trying to help him, I didn't want him to waste all of his money, but I didn't want him to sit at home all of the time.-**

** -I thought most of those outings were his ideas-**

He felt his cheeks grow a little warm and the guilt built up stronger in the pit of his stomach. He set his phone down so he could think and get more of the cleaning done. As he moved toward the back he saw that there was an object blocking his vacuum from getting underneath the back seat. He reached in and clutched the leather bound book. He clicked off the machine so the sound of the leather sliding against the rough carpet was the only thing in Michael's ears. He recognized it as the book he found in Blaine's attic, along with a map and a flattened flower. It was also the book that Moonbeam had shown him their last day together.

Mike's lips twitched up as his hands ran over the cover, a beautiful blonde woman was staring ahead, her hair tangled around her feet and her soft complexion ruined with the age of the leather the picture was imprinted on. He thought she was kind of creepy, the way she stared. He pulled open the book, its spine cracked quietly as its pages flapped down with the motion. The pressed flower was resting between the pages of the beginning of Rapunzel and the end of The Frog Prince. He picked it up and pressed it to his lips, his smile growing even more. As he placed it back down he turned to look at his phone. He wasn't going to keep anymore secrets from Blaine, which included his white lies about Sam.

**-Those were actually all my ideas. I guess I was too shy to admit that I wanted to spend more time with you. Also, I have your book, it was in the car.-**

** -I can't decide if I should be flattered or upset with you.-**

Before he could respond with a plea for forgiveness, Blaine sent another text.

** -I just spent half of my time looking for it! When can you give it back to me? Hopefully sooner than when I am actually allowed to see you again?-**

Michael tensed up again and pursed his lips together, blowing out through his lips in stress. He sat down on the back seat of the van and stared down at the screen of his phone. The tiny black words were teasing him, provoking him to do something that would get Blaine in more trouble. He shook his head and smiled nervously.

**-Please let it be the former. :) Also, I'll send it to you.-**

** -Send it? Like through the mail? That won't do!-**

**-Why not?-**

** -Because I want to see you, too. ;)-**

It was a rush of different feelings that caused Mike to jump up off the seat and hit his head on the ceiling of the van. Grinning but biting down on his bottom lip, Michael sat back down and rubbed the back of his head as he was focusing on his phone again. He was elated that Blaine wanted to see him so soon, but also distressed that he could get Blaine into trouble with his parents if the he was caught. He had already influenced Blaine enough to get him to run away, he didn't want Blaine's parents to hate him for being such a bad example. Before Mike could text his worries to Blaine, there was another chime and a new message blinking away in his inbox.

**-There is a tree right next to my window.-**

** -What are you implying?-**

** -Climb it and give me my book back!-**

** -Oh geez, why don't you just lower your long hair down and I'll climb up it.-**

** -That sounds painful.- **

** -And yet, equally ridiculous to your plan.-**

Michael liked the idea too much. He was deeply considering it as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, tucked the book under his arm, and dragged the vacuum out of the van. He glanced up at the crescent moon that was accented against the newly-darkened sky. His flurry of emotions caused him to smile as well as shake his head; he was frustrated and excited. Two expressions were on the edge of his lips, bursting to escape and make sound. Part of him wanted to squeal happily, while the other part wanted to groan in annoyance. He wasn't annoyed with Blaine, he was annoyed with himself. Blaine was the person in his life that made him happy.

**-Well, I think I know you well enough to know that you are okay with the ridiculous.-**

** -When I'm calling it ridiculous then it's a different level of ridiculousness.-**

** -Please? Please?- **

**-Man, it's a good thing I can't hear you say that.-**

And then his phone was ringing. He ignored it but grinned, his cheeks were burning from the force of his own smile. The happiness that Blaine was giving him was stronger than his own frustrations with himself.

**-Why didn't you pick up?-**

** -I'm not going to help you get into trouble. If you're talking to me on the phone you might get caught. Plus, I don't want you to convince me to climb a tree with a book in one of my hands.-**

** -Then leave the book at the base of the tree and climb up without it.-**

** -That defeats the purpose.-**

** -It does not! The purpose is to see you. Duh!-**

He smirked and quickly took a picture of himself sticking his tongue out and sent it to Blaine.

**-There you go!-**

** -Very funny.-**

** -I'm hilarious.-**

He chuckled to himself and walked up the stairs to his bedroom, after reassuring his dad that he had finished cleaning out the van. Sam was sitting on his air mattress, his back to Michael, and he was picking the splay of comic books that were across the floor next to the mattress.

"I guess you'll finally be able to put those on a nice shelf, Sammy Sam."

Sam didn't turn around right away but Mike noticed his shoulders tense up, as if he was surprised by Mike's presence.

"Yeah, I can finally take care of them."

"Aw, cuddling with them isn't considered taking care of them?"

"Ha-ha-ha," Sam finally turned to look at Mike; his eyes seemed a bit red. Michael felt the awkwardness of the situation, knowing that Sam was just crying and feeling oddly guilty about it. Of course he was probably crying about the happiness that just came upon his family, at least Mike hoped that was the reason Sam's voice was a little higher than normal. "What? You had to steal another thing of Blaine's?" Sam glanced pointedly at the book in Michael's grasp.

"Nah, I just found it. I already messaged him about it," Mike felt oddly out of breath talking about Blaine with someone else. Blaine felt like his most exciting secret, he was aching to talk about only him and yet he wanted to keep all of his feelings about Blaine so quiet that he himself didn't know them.

"Before you drop it off to him you should warn me, I don't want to be caught in the lovesick Mikey rays."

It was Mike's turn to laugh sarcastically, though he couldn't do it as well as Sam considering the phrase "lovesick" was pretty accurate to Mike's own views on himself. "Can't drop it off for about two months," he sighed and sat down on his bed. "He's grounded."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah, and it's my fault."He groaned as he flopped onto his bed. Sam didn't respond and it inspired Mike to think that Sam agreed with him. He placed a hand on his stomach and breathed in and out as he thought to himself, his lips formed into a grim smile. "You know he wants me to give his book back to him by climbing the tree outside his window."

There was an awkward silence before Sam finally spoke, "sounds like the perfect set up for a goodnight kiss from your prince locked in a tower."

Mike's face burned with embarrassment and he swallowed hard, thinking of kissing Blaine again. Maybe if he did kiss Blaine again and they were both fully awake and not acting rash out of sheer want, it would end up differently and not with the disastrous mutterings of someone else's name. He licked his lips absentmindedly, remembering the taste of Blaine. He let out a long sigh, completely forgetting that he was being watched by his best friend as he looked up at the ceiling. He wasn't really looking at anything as his mind played out all of the possible scenarios that could go down if he dared to sneak up to Blaine's window.

"Are you going to go?" Sam's voice drew him back into reality. He glanced over at his friend and then made a noncommittal noise. "Mike…," Sam had something of a warning in it.

"Maybe, maybe not," he shrugged.

"He could get into more trouble."

"I know. He's already risking it by not giving his phone to his parents."

"He's not supposed to have his phone?" Sam asked warily, pulling out his own phone in reaction.

"Well duh! He's grounded after all." Mike didn't like the piercing look that Sam was giving him, but it made him feel rebellious. "You know what," he stood up and clutched tighter to the book that had remained in his hand since he entered the house. "I'm going."

Sam let out an audible groan and fell back on his air mattress; it let out a pathetic wheeze. Mike thought it was just in time that Sam would soon be sleeping on his own bed, the mattress he had spent the summer on seemed like it was almost ready to pop. He laughed a little and pulled a jacket out of his closet before leaving his room, ignoring Sam's muttered protests.

"Where are you going?" A voice came from the kitchen as Mike passed it. He bit down on his lip and peered around the threshold, his dad was sitting at the counter, a glass of orange juice in one hand and a portfolio in the other. He wasn't looking up at Mike as he spoke.

"I was just going for a drive," he spoke with as much as a casual tone as he could manage. "One of my friends left one of their bags in the van and I thought I would bring it to them."

"You can give it to them at school next week."

"T-they don't go to my school."

"Right," his father looked up appraisingly. "Get back soon."

"I'll try to, dad," Mike smiled weakly.

"We don't 'try', Michael-"

"We 'get it done', yeah I know." Mike's smile was then tightlipped and rueful as he nodded at his father before heading out the front door.

()

-** I'll give you your book, but you need to give your phone to your dad right after.-** Mike was feeling slightly creepy as he stalked the outer hedges of Blaine's house, his car was parked a few blocks down so no one be suspicious. Though when he thought about it, his car would probably be suspicious no matter where it was parked. It looked old and run down compared to the plethora of hybrids and hummers parked in front of extravagant houses.

**-That's not fair! –**

** -Alas, the price of getting what you want.-**

** -How will I talk to you or the rest of my friends?-**

** -Isn't the point of being grounded?-**

** -I guess you're right… :(-**

Mike knew where Blaine's room was, having been over at Blaine's house a few times during the summer and wasn't surprised to see that the light was on, the shade of the tree next to the window flickering around in the slight breeze. He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he slowly made his way across the yard, not wanting to set off any automatic lights as he moved.

He felt like an eager child again as he gazed up at the large tree. The challenge was welcoming to him, which was unexpected. With a foolish smile he gripped onto the nearest limb and pulled himself up, remembering what it was like to show off his tree climbing skills to a certain curly haired boy. But his remembrance of such times also reminded him of the height of the trees they climbed. He swallowed and steadied his feet on each branch he climbed upon. The book was slipping in his grip as its width was large and his fingers were growing weak around its leather binding. His hands felt sweaty, accompanied by his fear of the ground below him. Most of the time Michael could stomach his fear of heights, when he felt stable in his position and when the height wasn't particularly dangerous, but the revisit of his childhood brought back childhood irrationalities. Blaine lived on the second floor of his house, the height was nothing to cry about, but the flimsy limbs and hard-to-grip branches made up for the lack.

When he reached the window, Michael breathed in and out and sat down on a larger branch, wrapping his feet behind a lower branch so he could catch himself. He switched the book to his other hand and whispered into the open window. "Blaine, Blaine, let down your brown hair."

There were a few fumbles and an awkward squeak that Mike would pretend not to hear. When source of the squeak stumbled into his view, Mike was struck by Blaine's appearance. He was wearing a black cardigan with a dark blue dress shirt underneath and very tight black pants. If Mike didn't know any better he would have thought that Tina was hiding around the corner with her own folder of men's design that she once asked Mike to take a look at. Blaine looked good, but not like himself. There were tiny patches of pink on the top of Blaine's cheekbones, his hair was soft but the curls were tamed with, and his mouth was opened in an exasperated smile. After getting over the initial shock of seeing Blaine dressed in such uncharacteristic clothing, Mike's body moved back into his normal shift of emotions. He wouldn't classify his lurching and overexcited stomach as normal per say, as he was never really use to the feelings Blaine inspired, not matter how often they squirmed inside of him.

"Hello, Michael," Blaine leaned his body against the threshold of the window and Mike smiled calmly, loving the way Blaine said his full name. It was so natural, warm, and right, the way his name rolled off Blaine's tongue was the most relaxing and heart-warming sound to Michael.

"Hello, Blaine," he returned with an exaggerated nod as he held out the book.

"I thought you were going to leave it at the base of the tree?"

"What if it rained?" Mike grabbed a branch above him and swung forward a little bit so he was closer to the window, the scary height now only a background noise in his mind.

"You better get inside then," Blaine replied as he pulled the book away and put it down on a nearby shelf. He peered back at Mike, his eyes flashing teasingly. It was adorable and provoking.

Michael observed the opportunity, and then Blaine in his dark clothing, as he considered it. After a few tense moments of silence he spoke, "I don't think so, Blaine. You could get into more trouble." Blaine's smile grew as he leaned forward, his hands pushed himself up on the window seal but Mike instantly put a foot up so Blaine wouldn't go any further. "No, no, you stay there and I'll stay here."

"Really?" His tone was hopeful as he moved back, his charming smile moving into a thin and suppressed one, as if he was aching to grin but wanting to hide it as well.

"Well I won't stay here for that long," Mike shifted in his seat, already feeling uncomfortable on the branch. "It's not the best seat here."

"Then come inside."

"No," Mike narrowed his eyes. Blaine finally stopped teasing with his expression and seemed let himself smile out of happiness instead. "So are you going to give your phone to your dad?"

This made Blaine frown and he rested his head on the side of the window, his pout expertly placed. Mike almost reached forward and stroked his cheek but realized how…surprising such an action would be.

"I'll be living in misery for two months," Blaine pouted some more and tilted his head toward Michael. But a smile spread across his lips and his eyes connected with Michael's. They smiled at each other for a few moments. "Unless, you'll come and see me like this."

"Ah, ah, Blaine. What's better? You being grounded for only two months or you getting to see me for a few days but being grounded for four months?"

"I doubt my dad would make my punishment that much longer," Blaine rolled his eyes but his smile remained. "Let me keep my phone."

"If you text me or call me, don't expect a response," Mike stuck his nose up in a snooty expression. "Sadly I can't make your other friends do the same. Besides," he looked back into Blaine's eyes. "Maybe if you turned it in your parents will take a week off your punishment, or more."

Blaine looked down and mumbled his response. Mike, not knowing what Blaine was trying to say and not wanting to leave so early, licked his lips as he thought of a new subject to bring up.

"Are you going to tell me why you're dressed like that?" He asked in a light tone. The blush in Blaine's cheeks came back and Michael felt a rush of giddiness tremble through his body, he was grinning wildly, clearly showing that he saw the blush and that it amused him.

"Well, what do you think? Sometimes I like to mix and match my clothing and I'm looking to find a good look for tomorrow…even if I'll just be staying in my house. I have to take advantage of the Dalton Blazer free days I have left," Blaine's entire speech was incredibly rushed.

"I think that Tina is hiding in your closet," he responded with expert archness.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"I think you look great," Mike admitted before continuing, "but I'll have to say it's nothing like you. At least not the you that I know."

"It's me, it's just darker shades," he was pouting again.

"You look good," Michael said defensively. "I'm just not used to it is all."

"Well, what do _you _like?"

Mike paused in thought. He was hopeful that Blaine was asking what kind of style he liked because Blaine wanted to get his attention, but he was a little distress about the idea of someone changing something about themselves just to please someone else. But he didn't have room to talk, originally he had started wearing ties, vests, suspenders, and slacks to fit a style that he thought Blaine would notice until he realized that it all kind of fit him anyway.

"I'll like it when people like what they wear, when people look confident with who they are, when people don't change to please others, but change for themselves if they think it's needed," he shrugged and looked up at the branch he was holding onto. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him, warming his insides with bubbly eagerness, and tried to imagine what those big hazel eyes looked like as they roamed over him. "I better go now," He said quickly, not looking at Blaine as he moved down. He heard hissed protests but was too flustered to respond to them.

When he was a few feet away from the tree he heard a small crack and a thud and a very quiet whimper. He turned around to see Blaine sitting at the bottom of the tree, with a child-worthy pout on his face. Mike was by his side in an instant.

"What the hell, Blaine?" Mike whispered as he helped Blaine stand up. Blaine's grip was tight on the sleeve of his jacket, giving him slight trouble as he attempted to help. "Why did you do that?"

"I…uh," he laughed softly and didn't let go of the fabric of Michael's jacket. "You were leaving so suddenly. I guess I wasn't thinking."

"Are you alright?" Mike attempted to look Blaine in the eyes, but the latter was keeping his face down and his grip remained tight.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine," his shakiness of his voice betrayed that he wasn't "totally fine" and he seemed to realize how much his tone was giving him away. "I mean, you're a jerk. First you promise not to talk to me if I keep my phone and then you climb away before I can even say goodbye. Jesus! It's like you want me to be unhap-" Blaine was raising his voice and so Mike had to act quickly by putting his hand over Blaine's mouth.

"I don't want you to be unhappy, that is the last thing I want. I just don't want you to get into more trouble, alright?" He rolled his eyes and removed his hand slowly and Blaine's grip lightened on his jacket's fabric. Blaine was breathing heavily like he had just choked on something. Mike would have questioned it if he didn't realize that his own breathing was erratic, too.

"The last thing you want? Really?" Blaine still wasn't looking at him.

"No Blaine," his voice cracked with a nervous laugh as Blaine's hands moved slowly up to his shoulders. "That was a lie and I want you to be miserable."

"I think that will be a pretty hard thing to accomplish."

"Why is that?"

"I'm pretty sure the only way I can be miserable is if you are miserable," Blaine finally looked up with a weak, toothy smile. He was standing up straight and their faces were closer than was seemingly normal for two boys standing alone in the dark.

It felt like his head was filled with fluffy cotton, softening almost all of his sense. His eye sight was so clear that he could see the dark lines circling the magnificent hazel irises of Blaine's eyes with only the street lamps and a bedroom light to assist the coloring.

"I think you're going to be upset with me again," Mike heard himself say. He was surprised by the control he had over himself. He leaned in before his statement could be questioned and slowly closed his lips over Blaine's.

He didn't realize that his hands were gripping onto Blaine's soft cardigan until he started to move them away; he felt the fabric relax as he released it; He was amazed that he could focus on such things while kissing Blaine Anderson. Mike was suddenly filled with other realizations and feelings that pulsed through him so quickly it made him practically jump into action. Blaine's entire body was stiff for a few moments and Michael almost gave up and ran away when Blaine's mouth caught up to his own and pressed back.

Every sense that Mike had was covered in the scent, taste, and feel of Blaine. His body was absorbed in Blaine's welcoming atmosphere, while his fingers worked furiously to grip onto something to pull Blaine closer. His lips tasted the softness of Blaine's; he tasted that familiar mint and coffee breath, so warm and delicious.

As he pulled away he smiled, feeling Blaine's lips follow his out of the kiss. His heart was beating so quickly that it felt like it was going to launch right out of his body, and his fingers felt so shaky and weak as the gripped the edges of Blaine's cardigan. He didn't open his eyes; instead he leaned his head down and breathed rapidly

"Why would I be upset with you for that?" Blaine's voice was in a whisper but sounded as affected as Michael felt.

"I thought it would remind you of our first kiss, to be honest," he laughed apologetically and opened his eyes to see that Blaine still had his closed.

"Our first ki-what?" There was a short pause before Blaine's eyes snapped open and he shoved Mike away, his eyes wide with realization as he covered his mouth with his hand. Mike was worried for a second until he saw the corners of Blaine's lips turn up behind his hand. "You totally took advantage of me, Michael." He dropped his hand down and his face went red, but he looked pleased.

"Well," Mike twitched his head to the side and scrunched his nose. "I'm just glad that you didn't call me Kurt this time." His laugh expressed relief and relaxation after an entire summer of tension.

They kissed and laughed for what felt like ages until Mike finally convinced Blaine to turn back toward the tree and start climbing. Before the latter reached the tree, however, he turned back around and whispered loudly, "You have to come and see me again." When Mike's response was a quick shake of the head Blaine stormed back over to him and gave him another short kiss. "I can't leave it like this for two months, Michael," his voice was quiet and eager against Mike's lips when they pulled away.

"So be good and you'll be free sooner than that."

"You're relentless."

"So are you."

"How can you do this to me?"

"Hey, I didn't plan on it. Not that I'm not happy it did happen. I certainly don't want to wait two months to see you again, Blaine."

"So don't wait."

"Alright, alright, I'll see what I can do. But don't expect me to show up at your bedroom window again," he pulled Blaine's hands off his shoulders and placed a small kiss onto his cheek. "Happy? Now go back to your little tower."

Blaine did seem happier, and that's all Mike really wanted for him, the fact that it was him making Blaine so happy was just a bonus…a big bonus.

He watched as Blaine scrambled through his window, the end result being a thud and a loud giggle, and then waited for Blaine to look out again before waving goodbye. When he was sure he was out of view, Michael jumped excitedly, unable to contain the joyous emotions pulsing through his body with every fast heart beat. He never intended so much so quickly, he had planned on getting to know Blaine a little bit more before taking such risky advances. But, as he thought about their relationship, the two of them always seemed to know each other deep down. Michael didn't believe in soul mates or destiny, but he did believe that he knew Blaine the way he would never know anyone else, and knowing that made the walk to his car feel like the lightest stride he had ever experienced. Anyone peering out their house windows could see that he was not in his normal mind as he was practically dancing his way down the suburban sidewalks.


	18. Dance Partners

**Author's note: This chapter has not been edited by my beta**

* * *

><p>True to his word, Blaine didn't text Mike. This gave the latter the hope that the offending phone was turned into Blaine's parents but also stirred a bit of anxiousness in his stomach. He partially regretted his persistence. After two weeks of no contact with the boy he shared a night time kisses with, Mike felt incredibly weary, jumpy, and eager. He definitely had his moments of grin-worthy happiness, where is stomach lurched and he felt shaky with relief but those moments couldn't exactly overcome all of his doubts.<p>

He realized when he got home, and got yelled at by his dad, that he left Blaine with nothing, no promises or exclamations of his feelings. All of it was implied, but a few kisses just didn't seem like enough. What if Blaine still had doubts?

It all caused him to be distracted during his new classes and despondent in glee. He didn't even respond when Santana casually stated that the only thing that wasn't new was Mike's outstanding muteness.

He didn't mind that he brought nothing to the table in the form of summer news, even though almost everyone else did. Sam had a new home; Kurt was single again (though no one ever discovered who his boyfriend was, except for a smirking Santana that refused to tell anyone); Tina was dating a "kid from Dalton," and Artie and Quinn had secretly spent most of their summer…together. All Mike had were doubts, worries, and secret excitements about his relationship with Blaine; he didn't want to plaque his friends with things they probably wouldn't care about. Michael wanted nothing from them except a little less teasing and no more concerned looks. He was thankful that at least Sam didn't bother him, though the he really didn't get anything from Sam after the latter moved out of his house, not even a simple friendly smile.

"Are you alright?" He felt his mom's comforting hand rest on his back as she scooped some noodles onto his plate with her other hand. "How was your first week of school?"

"It was okay, Ma," he forked up some of his pasta and forced it into his mouth so he would have an excuse not to elaborate on the goings on at McKinley high school. His mother didn't take the hint.

"Are you sure?"

When he was being honest with himself, Michael knew that the only time he actually had peace from worry, doubt, and longing was when he was roaming through equations and foreign languages. Like always, he was dedicated to his work, though it wasn't necessarily for the reasons that his father hoped. It was a distraction from distraction.

"I'm not worried about my classes," he admitted after swallowing the large amount of food in his mouth, "I think I'll do fine."

"Don't get too relaxed, Michael."

"I won't, dad," he replied calmly before taking another forkful of his food. He concentrated on the grainy, chewy, natural taste of the home made dish, attempting to do what he did with his homework, distract himself. The rest of the meal remained silent as Mike slowly chewed each noodle to mush in his mouth before swallowing. He could feel the eyes of his mother watching him carefully, also eating slowly. The only one at the table that was finished in a reasonable amount of time was Mike's father, who seemed oblivious to tension surrounding his son.

After wiping his mouth and washing his dishes, Mike moved quickly to his bedroom to avoid his mother's inquires and his father's pressure. His room felt so weird without the air mattress and mess of Sam's clutter in the corner, but in that moment he was grateful for the alone time.

He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and reached for the headphones left on his bedside table. The great thing about his headphones was that they managed to cancel all noise outside their padding. He could be absorbed in his music and his thoughts without the busy of the rest of the house bothering him.

_Well you know I hardly speak_

_ when I do, it's just for you._

_ I haven't said a word in week_

_ 'cause they've been keeping me from you._

He hummed along as his pen drew lazy scribbles over his note paper. The ink swerved around page long equations and looped through the pale blue lines of the paper with the steady mumble of the song resounding in his ears. Mike remembered a time when he would go for weeks without talking to anyone. As a child he was unnaturally shy and introverted, his only true outlet being music. He used to be attached to his disc man like it was his life line, which was stored away at the top of his closet, along with his CDs. There was a time when talking to other kids frightened him. That was until a certain kid smiled at him through a window and held his hand up, asking him to stick around instead of gawking at him like he was a different species that needed to be treated with special care.

_There's a way where there's a will._

_ You know I got no need for stairs._

_ Step out on the window sill_

_ fall with me into the air_

His notes turned into a mess of inky circles, numbers, and letters as the song continued in his ears. Mike dropped his pen, noticing that if he went any further with his doodle he would have illegible notes. He turned his AP Chemistry book open to the first chapter and began to casually scan over the first paragraphs as the song came to an end.

_Here we go, hold on tight and don't let go._

_ I will never let you fall._

_ I love the night, flying over these city lights_

_ but I love you most of all._

With a sharp intake of breathe, Mike began to write again, his pen scratching into a fresh piece of paper, indenting the light blue and red lines with black interrupting ink. The song changed to something more upbeat and his pen would tap to it every time he took a break from writing to read.

After few hours, Mike filled ten pages with chem notes, Spanish notes, and Blaine's name under layers of scribbles and scratches. It seemed that even his homework was failing as a distraction that night. In habit, Mike checked his phone only to discover that there were no messages. With a groan, Mike moved toward his bed and held his headphones over his ears so they wouldn't fall off his head as he fell onto his bed.

His brain was slowly concocting a plan to see Blaine the next day. His mind worked through all of the possible places they could accidently meet. He couldn't just randomly show up at Blaine's house, pretending to be some kind of delivery person, tricks like that only worked in movies or when someone had physic paper like The Doctor. He couldn't pull a "Kurt Hummel" and pretend to be enrolled in Dalton just end up with Blaine publically serenading him.

The very thought of Blaine singing to him in a public place sent Mike's nerves haywire. His face went hot from embarrassment just thinking about it. As romantic as the idea was, Michael didn't think he could bare all of the stares. Sure, he performed in front of people, but that was when the lights were just on him and keeping the faces of the crowd staring at him. The more he thought about it the more he realized that it just might happen, knowing Blaine's track record with publically serenading his love interest. He ended up burying his head in his pillows out of the embarrassment about something that didn't even happen to him.

Mike forced himself not to imagine the scenario and managed to do so by thinking up other ways to see Blaine like he had promised, and like he had wanted.

After jumping through idea after idea Mike finally came to a good conclusion. Just as he slipped his headphones off and pushed them onto his bedside table along with his iPod he thought to himself: _Maybe pulling a "Kurt Hummel" isn't such a bad idea._

* * *

><p>Mike didn't know exactly how he felt about Kurt. Kurt was talented, prideful, sassy, and sometimes Mike felt that the only way Kurt knew he existed was when Mike was standing right in front of him. Mike kind of blamed himself for that, knowing that Kurt was above him with talent and personality. He shined so brightly that it was easy to spot him in a crowd. It was easy to pick out his voice as the group sang. It was easy to see why Blaine would like him. Kurt was the lead role, Mike was the extra.<p>

He wasn't exactly the background guy he used to be, but Mike knew that he would never be up there with the rest of the natural stars in his glee club. He was pretty okay with it. He liked the sidelines, he liked performing, he even liked singing the ooos and aaahs behind Finn or Rachel. Sure, Michael liked his rare moments in the spotlight, but that was all for fun. He knew that all of this wouldn't go anywhere, that he didn't have a future with the arts. There were a few moments when Mike dreamed of always dancing and always performing, but in the end it was a hopeless idea. Everyone else out-shinned him and he felt that his place was behind the lights and glamour.

And so there Mike found himself, heading over to Kurt Hummel's lunch table. "Hey, Kurt." Mike said quietly, cradling his books in his arms to comfort himself and his nerves. Kurt looked up, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Can we talk?" The rest of the group sitting at the table all looked at him, too. This was awkward. Mike smiled warily at Rachel, Tina, and Mercedes.

"Yeah?" Kurt responded, dropping his bag of chips down on the table as if he were a little excited for the conversation. "What?"

"So," Mike shifted on his feet and glanced around at everyone else before staring. "You still have friends at Dalton right?"

A wicked and knowing smile stretched across Kurt's lips and he turned in his chair to face Mike a little better, "I keep in touch with some of them, though one of them has recently been cut off from communication outside the Dalton world, as you already know."

"Yeah, Kurt. I know," Mike looked up at the ceiling, trying not to be embarrassed.

"You know," Tina said quickly. "I've always wanted to see The Warblers practice. Plus, I never get to see Wes in his Dalton uniform."

"Really?" Kurt said, surprised. "I thought that his closet was full of just the same ugly blazers."

"I think you'll find that he has a very wide range of clothing now…that I have helped him."

Mike scoffed and shook his head. "Let me guess, you made him your test mannequin and now all of that green fabric that clashed with your skin tone is folded up neatly in his drawers."

"Well," Tina smiled brightly, "he was surprisingly more patient than the last guy I tried to make an outfit for!" He remembered when Tina used to badger him about out his style and clothing, especially when he switched from windbreakers to vests.

"I'm happy for you," he replied sincerely.

It was one of the things that few people really knew about Tina, she had incredible sewing skills. Mike remembered visiting her basement that her parents had allowed her to fill will rolls of fabric and papers all over the walls. It was then that Tina had tried to throw some experimental fabric on him claiming that she wanted to try making something other than dresses. That was the third fight in their relationship which ended in her calling him selfish, which was ultimately true. Mike didn't want her to pick out his clothes, let alone make his clothes, he stopped letting his mom do that when he was eight, determined to have one part of him that wasn't a carbon copy of his dad. Not that he minded being like his dad, but parts of him wanted to be different, like his dancing and his clothing.

Mike was grateful that Tina brought up visiting The Warblers, it saved him the awkwardness of having to bring it up entirely by himself. A part of him felt like Tina knew where he was heading and sure enough when he looked over at her she winked, like they were co-conspirators.

"You know, I really think we should pay them a little visit," Tina said happily, her nose scrunching up with enthusiasm.

"Uh huh, count me out!" Mercedes exclaimed.

"Me too," Rachel said, placing her hands on the table. "As much as I would love to play spy, I must practice for my Maria audition."

The rest of the group went silent. Mercedes was glaring daggers at Rachel while Tina was looking down at her hands in her lap. Mike could see that her face was red by looking at the small bit of forehead that was showing. The three of them were both planning on trying out for the role of Maria in McKinley's production of _West Side Story_, though Mercedes and Rachel didn't know that Tina was also eyeing the opportunity to showcase her talent so she remained outside the feud.

"You can't go either, Mike," Rachel piped up. "You have to help _everyone else_ in booty camp." Mercedes glared harder at Rachel's emphasis on the words "Everyone Else."

"Arg, don't call it that," Mike shook his head but smiled, feeling a strange sort of pride and embarrassment in his little side project that Mr. Shue suggested (and named…unfortunately). "Call it anything but that."

"Cancel this one, Mike," Tina looked up quickly, her face still a little pink. "That way Kurt could come with us. The three of us will visit Dalton together." Tina nodded her head pointedly at Kurt and the response was such a vigorous nod that his vibrant hair bounced.

He smiled happily and couldn't help but rock back on his feet a little. "Yeah, good idea, Tina. I'll tell Shue that he should take over, Finn and Sam need as much instruction as possible." He chuckled and waved goodbye to the group, feeling a lot lighter on his feet as he made his way back to the hallway.

When he reached his locker he was surprised to see that Sam was waiting next to it, his hand was running nervously over the strap of his messenger bag. "What's up?" Mike asked, making Sam jump a little in surprise.

"Hey, Mike," he smiled a little uncomfortably and his eyes followed as Mike twisted the lock on his locker. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he pulled his locker open and began pulling out the books he would need for the rest of his classes. "You? How is the new house? New neighborhood?"

"Awesome, really awesome. I have my own room and a shelf for all my comics," Sam rushed through his response and he quickly turned toward Mike and continued to speak. "I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Sebastian has been asking me out," Sam's voice was so low that Mike had to scoot closer to him to hear what he was saying. "And I keep saying no but he's like super persistent. What if we get caught or what if he like…pressures me to come out?"

Mike glanced over at Sam with a quizzical stare before he shut his locker and motioned for Sam to walk with him. Sam quickly followed him and watched him expectantly, but Mike kept his face stoic as he thought of what to say.

"You know, Kurt and Tina and I are going to Dalton today, after school. You could come with us and figure things out for yourself," Mike suggested, Sam had surprised Mike a few weeks back by telling him that Sebastian had enrolled in Dalton. He didn't really know how he felt about Sam and Sebastian, he liked the idea of Sam finally dating someone he was attracted to, but he didn't know Sebastian that well. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know," Mike watched as Sam shrugged and his lip turned up in small smile. "I kind of like h-that…person."

"So come with us, alright?" Mike smiled as he welcomed his best friend into the scheme.

"Cool, yeah," Sam nodded as strongly as Kurt had and waved a little as he turned down a different hallway. Mike watched him go, a worried frown creased his lips as he noted that Sam was being a little over enthusiastic and possibly hiding something…or maybe Mike was just reading into nothing.

* * *

><p>Mike sent a long, explanatory text to his mother before the four of them left and got an equally long text back, telling him to be back before dark and to expect his dad to berate him about where he had been. It didn't really surprise him but he was willing to take the lecture just to see Blaine again.<p>

A part of Mike was worried that he wouldn't see Blaine there, and that a part of Blaine's punishment was not being able to stay for Warbler practice. These worries faded a little when he entered the pristine hallways of Dalton Academy and heard the smooth sounds of boyish a cappella. Surely The Warblers wouldn't practice without their lead singer? Of course they would, they weren't that dependent.

When Kurt led them into the common room, Mike was surprised to find that they weren't depending on Blaine at all. But he was there, sitting on the arm rest of one of the couches and looking as magnificent as ever in his red and navy blazer. Though he was dressed in clothing that was supposed to hide how extraordinary he was among his fellow students, Mike felt that nothing could really tame everything he knew and felt about Blaine. Perhaps it was because of everything Mike knew and felt that made the sight of Blaine a kind of shock. Blaine wasn't singing the lead, Mike had learned from Blaine and from Thad's attitude toward Blaine that he was quite revered amongst The Warblers. Had Blaine decided to give up the lead singer? By look of Blaine's expression Mike could tell that wasn't the case. He looked slightly bored as he hummed the background notes.

When they stepped further into the room, he saw that Sebastian was taking the lead, his voice was smooth and plain. Mike felt that if Sebastian's voice was something tangible it would be malleable and easy to move around…but never creative or artistic. Or perhaps it was Mike's preference for Blaine's voice that claimed a bias over his opinion about Sebastian's.

But when Blaine's eyes met his all of his uneasiness faded away. Blaine sat up and stopped singing and if Mike was listening to anything else but his own unsteady breathing he would have heard the rest of the Warblers exclaim their excitement in seeing Kurt again. He only really saw Blaine and by the look of it Blaine only saw him. They didn't run to each other or shout loud greetings to each other, instead Mike mouthed a small hello and waved a little. Blaine's reaction was a laughing grin as he stood up. It was only when Blaine pulled his eyes away to observe the rest of the room did Mike opt to look around as well. He saw Tina embracing a surprised Wes and Sebastian eyeing Sam, while Kurt hugged his old classmates. No one was paying attention to him or Blaine. And when he looked back at the latter his smile grew. Blaine looked back at him and then quickly twitched his head toward a door to the right. Mike responded with a nod and made his way toward it.

They walked in silence side-by-side down the quiet hallways of Dalton. It felt like a different world to Michael, it was clean and peaceful. It was a little too calm for Mike's taste, he felt like too much attention would be drawn to him if he stayed there for too long. He liked the way he could melt and meld into the different interactions going on in a public school, with so much teen drama that it was easy to get lost in the crowd. Maybe the reason he felt like so much attention was drawn to him was the fact that the person next to him kept glancing over at him.

He looked back over at Blaine smiled, and suddenly felt comfortable with the attention that was given to him. His smile grew when soft fingers lightly tugged at his until they were intertwined and their palms were pressed against each others. But the two of them remained silent as they walked further into the grand private school.

The first sound Mike managed to make was a small laugh as he was suddenly tugged into a room he thought they were going to pass. Blaine let go of his hand as he walked ahead into the room while Mike stayed back to examine it. It looked untouched compared to the glamorous hallways. The floors were finely tiled while the ceilings were high and round with elegant chandeliers hanging from them. It was lit by the sunlight from the windows that took up the farthest walls, the dust particles wafted smoothly in the streaming light. Mike gaped a few moments before he found himself being tugged further into the room.

"This is where we host all of our fundraisers and auctions," Blaine explained as he pulled Mike toward the edge of the room, and Mike's gaze lingered over to a grand piano in the corner.

"It's…" he then looked over at Blaine. "It's really empty."

"Yes, yes it is. It's a ballroom after all," Blaine nudged him playfully and sat down on the piano bench, gesturing for Mike to follow him once again. Mike complied and slid next to him. "It's kind of romantic isn't it, a ballroom?"

"So is meeting someone at their window sill. You sure like to set these things up," he retorted in a playful, quiet manner. He could pretend to be calm when his heart was pounding in his throat and his stomach was buzzing around like a bee in a window.

"I can be resourceful," Blaine said with a grin as he ran his fingers along the piano keys. "Can you play?"

"Nah, the only instrument I can play is…the tambourine?"

"Ah, the tambourine is a very precise and beautiful musical instrument."

"Okay, so I can't play any instrument." Mike said with a pout as he rested his hands on the smooth ivory. He lightly pressed down and so indistinguishable musical notes rang through the empty ballroom. He was moderately surprised when Blaine's rough fingers slid over his own, he could feel the calluses from all of Blaine's musical instrument experience. A smile broke his lips and he felt a lot like a shy little boy having his hand held for the first time. He tried his best to hold back the shy smile that was strongly pinching his cheeks as Blaine pressed down slowly on each of his fingers and played out a simple tune that he didn't recognize.

"I'll use my resourcefully romantic wiles to teach you how to play the piano," Blaine cocked an eyebrow and looked over at Mike, his mouth open in a confident, smooth smile. He moved his hand and Mike felt a little disappointed, but he smiled when he realized that the hand was only moved so it could reach over to his other hand. Blaine carefully pushed down on Mike's fingers, playing out some higher notes in a very small and nursery tune. It ended after a few moments of this Mike burst into a fit of entertain laughter. He felt a little silly but oh so relaxed and very handsome under Blaine's solid and unashamed stare. He loved the way Blaine's glances made him feel like he was really worth looking at, just his face though; he already knew that his abs were certainly attention stealers and he vaguely wondered if they would steal Blaine's attention.

They didn't speak for a few minutes, they merely laughed together and Mike kept looking down at his hands and then up at Blaine, still feeling incredibly sheepish. But Blaine's expression looked like he was pleased with Mike's bashfulness, it was teasing and open. Mike felt oddly like they had switched roles. He liked it.

"So how are things at home?" Mike asked as casually as he could muster.

"Better than expected, but not wonderful. Things are still pretty awkward, and my brother came to visit…which didn't help the awkwardness," Blaine smiled, seemingly unfazed by his previous experiences. It warmed Mike's chest to see him so full of light and ease. "How are things with you? How is school? Are you doing well with homework?"

Mike opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure about how he was supposed to respond to so many questions at once. "I'm really good…now, school is school although tension is kind of running high in glee club lately and to be honest the only other thing I have really been able to concentrate on is my homework, so that goes well."

"What other thing?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean you said that homework was the only other thing you could concentrate but you never said what else you were concentrating on."

Mike felt his face start to burn with embarrassment as he looked down at his hands; it all seemed so silly now. "I guess I was worried about you," he spoke quietly. He heard Blaine let out a soft 'ah' of understanding.

"I'm sorry that you were worried, I think it would have been better if you wouldn't have pressured me about giving my phone up," Blaine was teasing but Mike couldn't help but hear a trace of true annoyance. Mike could feel the sudden serious tone starting up as Blaine continued to speak. "I really missed you."

The crack in Blaine's voice caused Mike to wince, he felt momentarily guilty. With a sharp intake of breath, Mike moved his hand down to grasp onto Blaine's, as a gesture of asking for forgiveness, and was glad to feel that it was eagerly welcomed.

"I missed you-" too? Mike didn't like the sound of that phrase. He felt like it was merely a reciprocation of Blaine's words, not his own statement, borrowed words for original feelings. "I missed you so much," he squeezed Blaine's hand to emphasize his meaning.

Again, they were silent for a few minutes. It wasn't awkward at all. It was just calm.

"So why is your glee club experiencing tension? Or can you not tell the enemy?"

"We're doing _West Side Story_ this year and it's been a cause for large amounts of diva. I guess that is bad information for the enemy, our weakness is our need for individual attention," Mike said wisely with a nod.

"You share that need?"

"Nah, I want us to win as a team, I think it's important to blend together when your singing with others, I think everyone else disagrees with me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, even Mr. Shuester overly exposes individual talents instead of promoting unification," Mike ran his tongue over his lips in thought, "I guess that is kind of our thing, a bunch of quote misfits unquote all coming together to…show of the strongest voices?"

"And strongest dancers."

"Not really."

"What about Sectionals last year?"

"That was a onetime thing. I think anyone can tell that if we were compared with Vocal Adrenaline that our dancing is extremely lacking on synchronization slash professional side. I suppose that is also a 'thing' of ours, singing is more important than dancing."

"I disagree."

"So do I," Mike said with a laugh. "I think dancing and singing are equal."

"Are you going to try out for any of the roles?" Blaine's tone was conversational but once again there was an undertone of something else, this time it was genuine interest and curiosity.

"I don't really fit any of them," Mike said with a shrug. "I am helping with the choreography though. Their having the rest of the football players join in."

"Do you like to choreograph?" Mike felt like this small talk was leading to something more than small talk and though he was wary, he was more intent on just being with Blaine no matter what they were talking about.

"It's pretty cool yeah, I imagine it would be better if I was teaching people who actually wanted to learn, you know?" He looked over at Blaine to see the response was an understanding nod and a scheming smile. "What? What is it?"

"Someone once told me that they got to know you best by the way you dance."

Mike raised his eyebrows in surprise, wondering who would make such a theory. He had an idea of who Blaine was talking about. It was either Tina or Sam, the two people that knew him best in Blaine's acquaintance. But he didn't think that either of them knew him the way that he felt Blaine knew him. "Is that so?" He finally responded.

"Mmmm," Blaine leaned forward onto the piano and looked up at Mike with a thin smile on his face. "Do you think you could show me what they were talking about?"

He fidgeted awkwardly on the piano bench before he replied with a superlative smile, "It's not like I go up to people and say 'Hi there! I'm Mike Chang, let me tell you about myself!' and then start busting a move in a random public place."

"This room seems pretty private to me," Blaine mused, his eyes flashed with daring. Mike accepted the challenge and stood up from the piano bench.

"I'll need some music?" He didn't really need music, but he wanted to know that Blaine was there.

"Shall I sing?"

"If you want to."

Some smooth notes moved around in the ballroom's walls as Mike moved toward the emptier space in front of the piano. When Blaine began to sing it was quieter than the sounds coming for the music, but Mike felt that if they were on opposites sides of the crowded room he would still be able to catch the tone of Blaine's voice.

He recognized the music from the musical their group went to while in New York, though Blaine didn't have the kind of voice that one would hear for that musical, his voice was rougher with acoustic feels, completely uncorrupted and pure. The woman that sang the song had a powerful, belting smooth voice that fit her position on Broadway. Mike could tell, as he turned around and moved his feet to the slow rhythm, that Blaine had made the appropriate adjustments so the words spun like poetic strings around Mike's body as he curved into each of them. His arms and legs spun the dust around every time he moved under the light and it made him feel slightly surreal, that and the warmth of the eyes watching his every move.

As the final note moved his body into a slight bow, Mike breathed in and out. Though he was dancing slowly he was still out of breath, mostly due to the nerves jittering about in his stomach. A loud cheer came from Blaine and he enthusiastically pounded on the keys to interrupt the quiet ringing of the last note.

Mike cheered as well, bringing his arms up and feeling the rush of having preformed for Blaine; only for Blaine. He felt like he could definitely dance more if Blaine asked it of him. He wasn't going to dance on his own accord though; he didn't want to be too showy.

"That was," Blaine stood and breathed in an out as if he was the one that just danced, "that was beautiful."

Mike smirked, "I guess I'm beautiful then."

"Yes, beautiful does define your personality," Blaine's tone was sarcastic but the red patches in his cheeks showed that he partly believed his own irony, which made Mike heat up with embarrassment as well. He watched as Blaine stood up and strolled over to one of the large windows that were the main source of light in the room. Blaine didn't look over at him until he reached the glass and turned around to face him. Unfortunately his face was covered in his own shadow. Michael stepped quickly over to see those hazel eyes clearer.

"I'm really happy to see you," Mike breathed out as he finally reached the window.

"I think I am happier to see you," Blaine was leaning against the glass, his eyes gazing up at Mike with a sort of defiance.

"How about we call it even?"

"Ah, ah, ah, I've been stuck in my house and," Blaine's voice trailed off as looked up in a gesture to the school, stretching his neck out (which ultimately drew Mike's attention). "It feels like a prison this year."

"It's safe though," Mike said in reply, moving his eyes from Blaine's neck, to his chin and then lips and then eyes. "And it's really good school. Think about what going here will do for your college choices."

"Well if you like it so much then why don't you go here," Blaine said with a sincere air of humor. For a second it worried Mike that Blaine wanted him to transfer for him, which was something he wouldn't find all that amusing, but the tone was clear.

"I almost did, but my dad is a mere math professor at a humble college, he couldn't get me in. Even if he had the right amount of money." Which made Mike a little happy, he enjoyed public school. It was easy to move in and out of it, act more like a liquid or gas that could move so smoothly without affecting. It wasn't like that in Dalton, Dalton was hard and made him feel like he would slam into everything and be solid. He really didn't like it.

"Kurt got in."

"Because charity cases look good on Dalton's reputation?" Mike mused and Blaine pushed him a little.

"Imagine if you were at Dalton and we met when I transferred here, oh how different things would have been. But I like how things are now; I'm certainly not wishing that we would have met again that way. I think you would be miserable here."

"We can agree on that, but it's still a really good education, you'll have a lot more opportunities opened up to you when you graduate," he saw Blaine rolled his eyes and nudged him back. "What? It's important."

"Yeah, and it's safe. I don't think I would feel unsafe at McKinley though. With you there?"

Mike was about to respond but was silenced by a sudden tugging at the edge of his pants, Blaine was pulling him in by the belt loop. He moved in closer to Blaine with raised eyebrows, a small chuckle and a burning feeling rushing though his torso.

They kissed again. The sound of their breathing and his own heartbeat were all Mike could hear. He could feel other things though. He felt the way Blaine's fingers clamped onto his shoulder as he leaned up to kiss while the other hand was occupied with Mike's tie, tugging him down to meet Blaine's lips. The next few moments consisted of small kisses and seconds of powerful eye contact. But the moments made a little change as Mike moved a hand up to Blaine's cheek and pressed his mouth longer against Blaine's, his lips closing over Blaine's bottom lip and sucking on it for second until he found himself surprised at Blaine's sudden retaliation. Hands let go of him and flew up to move around Mike's neck.

This kiss became less about emotion and more about the texture of mouth on mouth and tongue against tongue, the physical overtook the aura. Mike's fingers felt hot with everything he touched, his hands moved down the smooth blazer fabric and they finally relaxed on each side of Blaine's stomach.

And soon what they had left was their smiling mouths inches apart, sucking in the air between them.

"That…nice," Blaine said, blinking quickly. "We should definitely consider doing that more often."

Mike's reply was a grin and a blush as he moved his head down to Blaine's shoulder. With a plan in mind, Michael moved one of his hands away from Blaine's waist and pulled down one of the arms resting on his shoulders so he could grasp Blaine's hand and pull him away from the window. He heard Blaine give out a snort of amusement and cuddled his head closer to Blaine's neck, enjoying the sound and feel of the fast beating heart beat so near to him.

"I can't believe that I'm not the one being the cheesy romantic," was the whispered response as Michael felt Blaine give in and rest his head onto Mike's shoulder. "I don't even get to lead."

"That's only because I'm the better dancer," Mike finally spoke as he turned them around slowly. It wasn't in him to stay in one revolving spot like he had witnessed at so many an awkward teenage school dance. Instead he moved them around smoothly and slowly in a common and easy waltz that he muttered the time to. He only moved his head from resting against Blaine when he pushed the latter into a spin. Blaine let out a very surprised gasped before he was pulled back into Mike's arms.

He was about to speak again when they were interpreted by a loud cough. Annoyed by the interruption Mike glared over at the door to see Tina smiling and waving enthusiastically at him. He sighed and made a gesture for her to go away.

"Hi Tina," Blaine said with a grin.

"Hello Blaine," her tone was teasing and giddy.

"A little more alone time would be nice," Mike said, not moving his hands away from Blaine.

"Alright alright, Kurt and Sam are getting anxious though, something about practicing for an audition and picking up a little brother from soccer," she waved her hand like each statement was in front of her and she was just trying to push it away.

Mike sighed and looked back at Blaine. His lips were formed in a lopsided pout as he returned Mike's gaze. "You'll come back? Visit again?"

"How does tomorrow sound?"

"It's do-able," Blaine shrugged and then pulled Mike into a hug, his mouth grazed against Mike's ear, causing the latter to shiver again. "Does this mean that we're…we're dance partners?" Mike grinned and held onto Blaine a little tighter in response, as if it wasn't obvious!

"Yeah, we're dance partners," Mike whispered back.

"Good, that's really good."

Mike pulled away and pressed his mouth to Blaine's. When he heard a low whistle come from Tina he raised his hand and it deceased, but he could feel Blaine's smile grow against his lips, clearly amused.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: Now, I know that in the show Wes graduated (seeing as he wasn't in the third season) but I'm just gonna go ahead and pretend that he is Mike's age and still going to Dalton, okay? Okay.<strong>


	19. Adventurous  Teenager

**Authors Note: This chapter has not been edited by my beta.**

* * *

><p>The feeling was still buzzing on his lips and in his mouth. It was warmth and summer, it jumped through his body at random moments, causing his fingers to tense up and fumble around. He felt surreal in his own body but the stinging warmth in his chest kept him pleasantly grounded in reality.<p>

His experiences from the weeks before were similar but not as strong and not as near as pleasurable. There were shocks and panics and moments when he screamed into his pillow in a very "manly" fashion.

The thing that excited these menstruations and emotions the most was the expression on Mike's face that kept crossing Blaine's mind whenever he closes his eyes or dazed off into his own thoughts. It was a gaze that could only be measured as adoration. He only saw that look a few moments but they moved so slowly in his memory. The dark eyes would soften and Michael's lips would turn up just enough to indent his left dimple. The moments Blaine caught that stare made him feel like he was watching Michael dance, like he was the only one in the world that was blessed enough to really see Michael.

He was still feeling oddly struck the next morning, so much that he kept his eyes shut tight when his mind was aware that he was awake and the flickering sunlight from his window heated his face enough to tell him that it was morning. He had the fear that everything the day before, and even the weeks before, was all a blissful dream. He worried that if he opened his eyes all of the work and thought he had put into those days would collapse from a strong tower into rubble, every soft lighted memory and beautiful feeling would switch to shades of black and white with blurred faces and fake words.

Once again he wondered if he should risk it. But the remembrance of all those worrisome mornings before that one reassured him that if it was all reality, wonderful heart-burning reality.

He opened his eyes a little bit and looked around at the window where Mike had appeared weeks before. Blaine gulped before letting his now usual grin hurt his cheeks.

He was then pulled out of his thoughts by a knock on his bedroom door. He gasped in surprise before muttering a reply for the intruder of his happy morning realization to open the door. His father peered through a small opening warily before pushing it fully open. "Morning."

Blaine's eyebrows stitched together in confusion. "Good morning, dad?"

"Your mom and I are going to Columbus for a meeting today and we'll be staying the night so," he reached into his pocket and pulled out Blaine's phone and smiled tightly, "we decided to give this back to you early in case you need to call us," he sounded like he was saying something he didn't want to say and Blaine was silently grateful that his mother obviously had a lot of pull in the discussion. His dad reluctantly threw the phone to him before continuing. "Cooper is going to stay the night here so you don't do anything foolish."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "I'm seventeen, dad. Do you really think that I need a baby sitter?" _And do you really think that Cooper can be responsible enough?_

"He's not necessarily a baby sitter, maybe a parole officer?" Blaine saw a man he recognized in his father's now warm smile and he couldn't help but smile back, even though he just found out that he was considered a criminal that needed to be watched.

"Alright, I understand," Blaine flipped his phone in his hands and felt giddy again as he contemplated the first text he was going to send to Michael.

"I know I can't stop you from talking to your friends, Blaine. But if I find out that you invite them over or sneak out you'll be facing at least two more weeks of punishment."

"Come on, dad, it's me. You know what a good-natured and innocent boy I am," Blaine flashed the Anderson charm in a single grin that caused his father to roll his eyes and shake his head, but smile as well.

"Well, you're better than your brother. He used to sneak in a different girl every week," there was a glint of past annoyance in Mr. Anderson's eyes as he turned to leave.

"You don't have to worry about me sneaking in any girls, dad." Blaine called out after him.

He realized that he just made things a little bit awkward and was glad that his dad didn't turn around to respond. He breathed in and out before nervously biting on his lip. Things were still healing between them and as casual as he tried to act about everything, he still felt the awkward tension whenever his sexuality came into the conversation.

When he was sure that his father wasn't going to come back, Blaine turned on his phone. His hands were shaking a little bit in excitement and the recent awkwardness quickly faded away. He pulled up Michael's phone number and chewed nervously on his bottom lip as he thought up the right words to text.

-**I got my phone back early, Michael. Also, my parents are out of town for the night.-**

He almost wished he didn't send it, thinking that the last part probably sounded a little too inviting. And when he didn't get a response right away he was irrationally worried that the subtle suggestion had gotten through to Mike and he wasn't the least bit interested in sneaking back over to Blaine's house. Blaine couldn't blame him for being so careful, but it was a bit frustrating. There were times when Blaine was tempted to do the sneaking himself, but he always chickened out.

**-That wasn't an invite or anything. I just thought it was useful information**.- Blaine sent the second text after a few minutes of Michael's lack of response and was surprised to feel his phone vibrating just a few moments later.

**-It wasn't? Shame, I was practicing my tree climbing skills and everything.-**

Blaine guffawed and set his phone down on the bed, climbing out of it before mustering up a forced glare back at his phone. Mike was so unpredictable some times and it was supposed to be more frustrating, but Blaine found it amusing and intriguing. He picked his phone back up and headed to his bathroom.

**-I guess we shouldn't let that practice go to waste huh? My brother is staying the night, but he'll probably end up throwing some kind of loud party so I doubt he'll hear you or anything, if you want to come over?-**

** -What about visiting you after school?-**

** -You can do that too.-**

** -How about this: I pick you up from school and take you home and we hang out at your house. That way you don't miss practice and I don't skip out on dance lessons.-**

** -But I drive myself to school :( Also, dance lessons?-**

** -Then I'll drive you to school. :) Yeah I told you that I was choreographing for WSS, I'm also helping some of the glee club with their dancing.-**

Blaine sighed heavily and smiled a little at the thought as he made his way back into his room to get dressed for the day. When he pulled out his Dalton blazer and his beige slacks his mind mulled over the idea that usually sprung upon him during that time of day, what would be the harm in transferring? He knew that it was a ludicrous thought and that Mike probably wouldn't approve of it. But he also thought that he didn't really belong there anymore. He had to admit that his ego did take quite a blow when Sebastian took over the Warblers. Singing was something he needed, it was fuel to him, and now he was stuck singing back round instrumental noise. He also felt the guilt that he didn't realize how much he used to sing instead of giving everyone else a chance. But back then they didn't seem to mind, and now behind Sebastian they still didn't seem to mind.

He sighed again for a different reason and started getting dressed.

**-I'll get a ride from my parents and tell them my brother is going to pick me up to take me out for brother bonding time. What if you're late for class or something?-**

** -Alright, I understand. I'll see you after school then. I can't wait to see you.-**

Blaine quickly took a picture of himself with his phone and sent it to Michael, feeling like payback was due anyway.

** -Very funny.-**

** -I'm hilarious, just like you.-**

* * *

><p>The school day was the longest he had experienced in his entire two weeks of punishment, knowing that he had something so exciting to look forward to at the end of the day caused him to be more anxious than the days before. The clock seemed to tick slowly, going from second to second in what felt like minutes.<p>

He was distracted during all of his classes by his constant need to check the clock. He didn't even have the mindset to be grateful that he wasn't called on or that he had managed to sink so far into the background of the Warblers that none of them noticed his lapse of concentration like they would have the year before.

Blaine's ego was bothering him, too. It was like a pestering animal that sat on his shoulder and told him things that he didn't really believe about himself. He knew that he wasn't the star of the Warblers and that he wasn't the only one with talent. He knew that it didn't matter if he got a lot of solos or sang background for the rest of the year but that little pestering voice kept telling him that it _did_ matter, that everything should go back to the way things were. Blaine realized that this logic was greatly flawed but the debate in his own mind still made him annoyed with himself and with the rest of the Warblers. But mostly he was annoyed with himself.

"You're here early," Blaine jerked his head up to see someone else that really annoyed him, Sebastian.

"I am?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and checking his watch again for the hundredth time that day.

"This is good, I've been meaning to talk to you," Sebastian was smooth and almost unreadable but Blaine saw motives in every word he said. A boy that calm and collected was too clean and forward not to be hiding something.

"About?"

"I have a situation that I think you could help me out with," Sebastian took a seat across from him and crossed one leg over the other. Blaine felt like he was in some kind of white collar crime movie. He was a criminal and Sebastian was a client with a job for him. Of course it was silly imagining that, but the way Sebastian was looking at him made him feel kind of wrong. Though Sebastian was clean and flawless Blaine couldn't help but feel dirty whenever they talked, not the good kind of dirty either.

"What is it?"

"So you are friends with Sam," Sebastian stated, his motive coming clear now. Blaine really hoped that this wouldn't happen.

"No, I'm not. I usually go on road trips with people I hardly know," his bitter tone was a feeble attempt at a warning. Sebastian didn't catch it.

"Sounds like my time in Italy. Except there wasn't a road, it was just a good week in an attractive stranger's apartment," he pulled a wistful look that Blaine didn't really buy. In fact Blaine had trouble believing most of Sebastian's stories about his adventures in different countries with different people. Maybe they really did happen, maybe they didn't. Blaine just didn't like how Sebastian made him feel like his life wasn't adventurous or interesting some times. Of course his life was adventurous! He got himself banned from the gap _and_ his boyfriend was going to pick him up from school without his parent's permission. If that wasn't risky then what was?

"Interesting," Blaine continued in his same bitter intonation. "What can I do for you?" _How can we quickly end this conversation?_

"Sam Evans, how do I get him?"

Blaine couldn't believe that he was getting asked this and so he went with the most obvious answer. "Sam's not got gay, so you can't get him." Blaine didn't believe his own words for a second, but he wasn't about to tell someone that he thought Sam Evans was gay, he knew what it was like to be in the closet and it wasn't a really respectable thing to do.

"Yes, he is," Sebastian said with a stare that once again made Blaine feel inadequate.

"Just because you want a guy to be gay, doesn't mean he is gay," he stated, feeling more uncomfortable.

"Hilarious, curly. Sam already told me that he was gay."

_I knew it! _

"I doubt that."

"Okay, he didn't say that he was gay, but we made out so I'm pretty sure he is," Sebastian said quickly with the same brimming self-confidence as always. Blaine felt himself blushing for Sam, knowing that the boy wouldn't like it if he knew someone was spilling so much about him to his friend.

"I think you're thinking of the wrong guy, Sebastian. Sam is super straight. He's totally straight," Blaine said with what he hoped was a convincing nod. His conversational partner didn't believe him for second.

"I think you know that he is gay."

"I don't _know_ that."

"But you think it."

"Can you just get to the point?"

"I already did," Sebastian uncrossed his leg and leaned forward, his hands pressing together like he was some kind of evil plotting mastermind. "How do I get him?"

"You just said that he _supposedly_ made out with you. Doesn't that qualify as some kind of a return of his feelings?"

"Nah, he said it was a mistake the next day."

_Sam is smart. _

"Even if he was gay, Sam wouldn't be interested in you because I think he's interested in someone else, a female someone else," Blaine stuttered out the last of his words, hoping that Sebastian wouldn't catch the fib.

"Oh? What's her name?"

"Mi-Michelle."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed in a studios glare before he replied, "so he likes Mike."

Blaine rolled his eyes and refused to grace Sebastian with an answer, this was getting too out of hand.

"I can be like Mike," Sebastian forced an enthusiastic grin that didn't suit him at all.

"No you can't," Blaine snapped.

"I can be like him long enough to get some of that beautiful blonde hair between my legs."

Blaine pursed his lips together, really not liking where this conversation was going. He felt anger and disgust for his friend. How would Sam feel if he knew that Sebastian was giving him so much attention just for sexual needs? How would Mike feel about his best friend being so objectified by someone like Sebastian? For once Blaine felt better than the boy sitting across from him.

"You can't be like Michael because he actually has real integrity and he actually cares about Sam, that's not something you can fake," the anger that had suddenly flared up in him caused his response to be sharp and full of venom.

He saw Sebastian flinch and was surprised to see an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes. It unnerved Blaine to see something so different in Sebastian's expression; it was almost like pain or real anger.

"We'll see about that," his voice was cool as always, but Blaine could tell that he had hit something with his remark. The conversation ended as the rest of the Warblers steadily came in one by one and grabbed for Sebastian's attention. While they crowded around Sebastian, occasionally smiling at Blaine, he pulled away and sat on a different side of the room while he considered the conversation he just had.

* * *

><p>During their practice, Blaine managed to speak up about sharing the solos a little which ended in Sebastian accusing him of wanting all of the solos for himself, which wasn't completely untrue. Blaine still missed the spot light; he only kind of admitted it to himself after the rest of the group started to quiet down and Wes put away his gavel. He didn't like the steady decline of their group, before it was a group ran by a council which, admittedly, admired him. But Sebastian came in with his glowing smile and smooth voice that Blaine used to have.<p>

He was grumpy after it all, but it all disappeared when he saw a familiar face smiling at him from the doorway. Realizing that the practice was still in order, Blaine sneaked his bag into his arms and subtly made his way to Mike, managing to trip only once on the way.

"Hi," Blaine whispered as he shut the door behind him.

"Hi," there was that look in Michael's dark eyes that made Blaine forget about everything else but the two of them. It was a dim comparison of emotion when it was put up against that desperate feeling the night they kissed under his window. Those few moments before Mike kissed him were full of so much aching emotion that he could feel his heart beat in his fingers. The feeling was still there, but peaceful and calm. The two feelings against each other had drastic differences but both were just as real.

As Mike leaned in Blaine felt like his heart rate could be measured from any part of his body the way it was pounding so fiercely throughout him. A stray thought in the back of his mind hoped that he always felt this way before kissing Michael. As their lips met it faded into a steady, dizzy and serene sensation. A sensation that had him reaching up and resting his hand on Mike's nape as he deepened the kiss.

"Good to see you," he managed to say after they pulled away.

"It's good to see you," Mike's smile was like a warm swallow of a well made medium drip. "Should I wait out here while you finish up your little practice?" He glanced at the closed doors to the side of them but Blaine pulled his gaze back quickly.

"Nah," Blaine scrunched his nose up and winked. "It's almost over and they don't really need me right now, come on." He pulled Mike toward the exit; he enjoyed hearing those usually balanced feet clumsily padding behind him, feeling those slender fingers grip onto his hand for a small moment of dependency, and most of all he enjoyed the soft laughter it brought out of Michael.

When they reached Mike's car Blaine couldn't help but grin when his door was opened for him, remembering the first time that he was in that vehicle. It seemed like ages ago, when he was just newly forming a crush on Mike.

"Thank you, kind sir."

In response Michael did a snooty bow as he shut the door, leaving Blaine to laugh loudly. When Mike was in the driver's seat he looked over at Blaine with an odd misty expression that made the latter feel strangely silly and bashful.

"I like making you laugh," Mike said in explanation. He tilted his head back and forth happily as he looked forward. "Your entire face laughs when you laugh like that. It makes me happy."

Blaine's first instinct was to hide his face but instead he just smiled and looked down. He didn't quite know how to verbally react to the comment though his smile did grow when he thought about it until he was grinning so hard that it was pinching his cheeks.

"How was your day?" Blaine asked after a few moments. He turned to look at Mike as the latter focused on the road.

"It was," Mike breathed in and out, "it was long."

"Mine too. How did practice go?"

"Stressful. Rachel and Mercedes are having major diva fits and Kurt keeps trying to prove that he is "manly" enough to play Tony."

Blaine held back a laugh at the idea. "He wants to play Tony?"

"Yeah, he said something about needing it on his college application," Blaine could see that Mike was hiding a smile as well.

"Well…I'm sure that Kurt can manage it? His voice doesn't really fit the part, though. Don't tell him I said that. Is there anyone else auditioning for that role?" For an instant, Blaine liked the idea of Michael playing the role of Tony, but he decided not to mention it, knowing how shy Mike became when such subjects were brought up.

"Nope, so I guess he's got a real chance at it," he laughed and glanced over at Blaine before turning back to look at the road. "The rest of guys are avoiding doing any roles. I have the feeling that Puck and Sam will be forced to join anyway unless we get someone for Riff and Bernardo and the other guys."

"What about you?" Blaine finally blurted out.

"I'm the choreographer," Mike stated, his cheeks going slightly red as if he knew what Blaine was implying.

"You can't play a character and choreograph?" His eyebrows were raised as he stared at Mike, who was now looking anywhere but at him.

"I really can't sing. Really, I wore a shirt last year that said "Can't Sing" on it. It can't be any more obvious than that."

"I've heard you sing before, Michael. You're not bad."Mike still refused to even glance over at him but the rise of color in his cheeks told Blaine that his words weren't going unheard.

"I'm not good either. I-mea-I- have you heard everyone else in my glee club? They're all amazing," Blaine tilted his head to the side as Mike's voice cracked while speaking the last sentence.

"Do you wish you could sing like them?"

Finally Mike did look over at him, his eyes searching Blaine's for a second before he turned back to the road. His teeth slipped over his bottom lip as he pondered the question. It took longer than Blaine was expecting but Michael did finally answer the question. "Sometimes I do, like it would be nice to be able to be able to belt out music like the others instead of keeping my voice in the background. But what I really wish," he stopped and glanced over at Blaine, licking his lips to express his hesitance about continuing, "that I could perform as a dancer without the need to sing. I wish I could be appreciated for what I can already contribute. I don't want to be useless, but I don't want to have to be like everyone else either." He shook his head and pulled his mouth up into an adorable frustrated pout. "No, they're all different. They all have their own different sound. But I just want to be able to dance and get as much appreciation as-as," his voice went quiet as they pulled up to Blaine's house. He looked over at Blaine with a nervous smile and then turned off his car.

Blaine didn't know how to respond to Mike's small speech. He wanted to do more than comfort him. He wanted to help him become performer that didn't need to sing to be loved. But he chose not to say anything. Instead he leaned over and pressed a small kiss to Michael's lips. "It's cute when you ramble on like that," he kissed Mike again and felt the latter smile against his mouth.

"Don't let me do it again," he muttered in response.

"Why? I like it," Blaine settled unbuckled himself so he could move closer. "And if it is worth something," he placed a hand over Mike's cheek and felt the skin twitch underneath his fingers. "I would give anything to see everyone loving you as a dancer _and_ because of who you are." He kissed Mike again and there was a pause when the latter's face felt warm under his finger, a very small smile was on his face and his eyes were gazing down at Blaine's other hand on his leg.

"That's definitely something, more than something," he whispered. They kissed again and Blaine pulled away completely.

"You know, we're really cheesy sometimes."

Mike considered the thought, "we really are, let's try not to do that too much, okay?"

They both laughed a little and Mike moved quickly out of the car to open the door for Blaine. "But, you can keep doing that," Blaine said as he stepped out of the car.

Loud noises came from the house as Blaine opened the door, in reaction Blaine gripped onto his boyfriends hand tightly. He knew that Cooper couldn't have been trusted to stay alone at his parents' house and the loud music and laughter was a sure sign that he was right. He gestured for Mike to be quiet as they walked down the hallway. But when they passed the dining room a loud shout caused Blaine to freeze and drop Mike's hand.

"Hey there, Squirt," Cooper bounded out of the dining room. He resisted rolling his eyes in response and smiled tightly at his brother.

"Hey, Coop," Blaine gestured to Mike awkwardly, "This is Michael. He's going to help me study." Blaine's eyes widened, hoping that Mike would catch the hint.

"Ah, yes," an arm went around Blaine's shoulders and he flinched. "I remember when I use to "study" back in my school days. I had a lot of "study" partners as well if you know what I mean," Cooper winked at Mike and the response was an awkward smile. "Hey, Michael, I'm Cooper, you may recognize me from my work on the big screen."

"The small screen, Cooper. They don't show commercials at movie theaters," Blaine wasn't surprised when his statement was ignored. He glanced over at Mike who looked to be holding back laughter.

"Yes, Blainey, maybe someday you'll be as famous as me and then we can host shows together or star in action packed movies together and I'll always get the girl and you'll always get the guy," Cooper carried on like that for a few moments before someone called to him from the dining room and he excused himself.

"Sorry about that," Blaine muttered as he took Michael's hand and pulled him up the stairs.

"It's okay, I recognize him from that commercial where a lot of people are singing about something?" Mike chuckled a little and squeezed Blaine's hand.

"Yeah, he does a lot of point work, too. Pointing at things is his signature move," He said with an exaggerated nod.

"Did he call you Blainey?" Mike asked when the door to Blaine's bedroom was closed, he was chuckling softly which made Blaine's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Ugh, it's better than Blaine Warbler," he shrugged and made his way to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. He looked expectantly up at Mike who joined him a few seconds later.

"Should I come up with a better nickname for you?" Mike's eyes sparkled teasingly as he took Blaine's hand again. Blaine smiled happily as Mike's fingers traced over the lines in his hand.

"No, no nickname."

"Shame, I would have given you an awesome one. Like _Mr. Anderson_."

"No please, that's what my father goes by."

"But…Matrix."

"No."

* * *

><p>After an hour of Mike occasionally pestering Blaine about a new nickname and a slow game of 'go fish' with Blaine's before unused deck of cards, Blaine ended up lying down on his bed and running a lazy hand through Mike's hair as the latter sat on the floor up against the bed. Mike had his eyes closed and his head tilted back into Blaine's hand with a content smile on his face.<p>

"Did you want to do anything else?" Mike asked, one of his eyes opening to look up at Blaine.

"I have a few ideas," Blaine smirked and withdrew his hand so he could move in closer and close his mouth over Mike's. The reaction was quick and pleasing; Mike's hand had found the edge of Blaine's shirt and pulled him closer so the kiss could become deeper. But before Blaine could fall off his bed they pulled away. "Come up here." Blaine nodded his head back and watched as Mike thought about it.

"I don't know, us kissing while lying down on a bed," he twitched his lips to the side as he pondered the consequences of such actions.

Blaine could honestly give anything to Michael as right there, in that moment, but he didn't want to pressure any quick movements when their relationship was still fresh. He didn't want Mike to feel uncomfortable and he certainly didn't want Mike to think that he would give something up so fast.

"Come on up here, Michael," Blaine pulled at his arm and was pleased to find that Mike wasn't as reluctant as he portrayed. Soon Mike was hovering over him and keeping his body a respectable distance while their lips met in delicate touches, at first. They quickly moved to deeper kisses that caused Blaine's lips to ache and his throat to go dry, giving him a light-headed but pleasant feeling as Mike's tongue swiped over his. The sound of their lips pulling away every so often was the only thing that could be heard alongside their heavy breathing, making Blaine feel even more light-headed and surreal.

Since he wasn't as experienced as Michael probably was, Blaine couldn't help but be grateful that Mike's arms were strong enough to keep the rest of his body up and away from his and that Mike wasn't taking advantage of the setting, knowing that he would surely give in Mike wanted him to.

This thought reminded him of something that he had managed to repress in Mike's company and he pulled back and sat up, much to Michael's surprise. "There's something I should probably tell you. Actually, I should probably tell Sam. But I think if I tell him he'll get mad at me."

Mike blinked in response but sat back so he could face Blaine. "You're thinking about Sam?" He arched an eyebrow in confusion.

"And Sebastian."

He arched both eyebrows at that. "Okay, that's not what a guy likes to particularly hear about when he was just making out with his boyfriend, but what's up?"

"It's nothing like that," Blaine felt himself blush, "I was talking to Sebastian today-well, he was talking to me and I was trying to get rid of him-and he said something about Sam." Mike's calm expression turned into a frown while the rest of his body tensed up. "And I mean I have had my own suspicions for some time now. But that's not the point; I think Sam should be warned off from Sebastian. It wouldn't be any good for him because Sebastian doesn't have good intentions."

Blaine watched as Mike folded his hands together in his lap. "If I did know about that suspicion-whatever, if I did know that Sam was gay or not, it wouldn't be my place to tell."

"I know, I know that," Blaine said softly as he placed a hand on Mike's leg. "Just tell him to stay away from Sebastian. He likes you, he'll listen to you. I'm afraid if I tell him he'll get upset at me for making assumptions about his sexuality, which he has done before."

"Yeah, I'll talk to him about it," Mike smiled over at Blaine and the tight awkwardness that occurred during that small conversation disappeared.

Blaine relaxed his shoulders in relief and began to pull Mike back over to him when a loud ringing went off. Mike groaned loudly and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He gave Blaine and apologetic smile before sliding his finger across the screen to answer.

"Hey, mom," Mike said in a cheery voice that caused Blaine to hold back a laugh, which earned a sharp poke in the side from the former. "No, I'm at Blaine's house." Mike rolled his eyes and fell back onto Blaine's bed with a pathetic plop. "Yes, mom. I did during lunch." His began to poke Blaine's leg with his foot as he continued to talk with his mom, a sly smile on his face while he did so. Blaine grumbled and poked back with his finger. "Okay, I'll be home soon then."

He pouted as he hung up his phone. "My dad says I'll be in trouble if I don't get home soon."

"I thought you were talking to you mom," Blaine sat up and watched with a frown as Mike pulled his shoes back on.

"She was giving me a warning. Dad likes to come up with punishments before there are warnings," he hoped on one foot while he hastily put one shoe on. Blaine felt a tiny smile tug at his lips as he watched his boyfriend nearly fall over in his hurry to get his shoes on, it was probably the most adorable sight he had seen in a long while and somewhere in that moment he remembered what Mike was like when he was just a little kid at a camp. His stomach lurched a little in excitement, realizing just how happy he was with his Sunshine. He didn't even realize that he was grinning and staring at Mike until the latter caught his staring and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Nothing, it's just that-uhm, when will I see you again?"

"Hopefully soon?" Mike leaned forward on the bed and pressed a kiss to Blaine's cheek.

"Goodbye then," he pulled Mike down into a hug, causing him the surprise of a warm body falling on top of him. They both laughed shyly and Mike made his way to the window after another brief kiss. "You can use the front door, you know."

Mike paused and shook his head, "right, I shouldn't make that a habit."

He was about to stand up and go to the window so he could watch Mike leave the house and drive away when his bedroom door opened again. Mike ran in and shut the door behind him, looking a little frightened. "This may come as a shock but I think your brother has put a slip-n-slide in the hall way. It's some kind of nude swimming party?"

"Maybe you should take the window this time," Blaine said, completely unsurprised by his brothers idea of a party.

"Okay," Michael laughed before heading back to the window. "It seemed a lot bigger two weeks ago," he mumbled as he crawled through the window. Blaine moved quickly to help Mike get through the complicated position that he had put himself in.

"Aren't you supposed to be super graceful and everything," Blaine said teasingly when Mike finally managed to hold onto the tree.

"I think you're natural clumsiness has rubbed off on me?" Mike's smile quickly disappeared into wide-eyed shock as Blaine pushed at him. He fell back a little but managed to grip onto another limb.

"Sorry," Blaine winced and leaned his head out the window.

"Just gave me a chance to prove that I have gracefully quick reactions to nearly being pushed out of a tree," he winked and leaned in so his face was inches away from Blaine. "I'll miss you." Mike said as he pressed his lips to Blaine's.

"I'll miss you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: I think you guys severely misunderstood my question. But that's okay. I did enjoy your responses and I do appreciate your input. Thank you. <strong>


	20. Play it Cool

**Author's note: This chapter has not been beta'd.**

* * *

><p>He momentarily felt like his hands were going to melt off as he clenched onto the sides of his shirt. He didn't know why he was doing this, his stomach and heart were arguing with his feet as he stepped into the darkness of the back of the stage He wished that he could reverse ever making the decision to do what he was about to do. Even after spending a week of nights practicing the number and days dancing around with his fellow football players, Mike was sure everything was going to crash and burn. He knew that he was going to fumble or get the wrong note, so he still wondered why he was preparing to audition at all.<p>

_"If you mess up, it doesn't matter. Because two of them are your teachers and the other is a friend of yours. They won't judge you if you mess up. Well they might judge you, but I'm sure they won't say anything." _

Mike held back a laugh as he thought of Blaine's reassuring tone over the phone from the night before. The two of them had spent every night talking to each other since Michael escaped out of Blaine's window. He didn't want to make the sneaking in and out of Blaine's house a routine, considering that both of them were on thin ice with their parents. Both of them realized that it was not a risk that the two of them should take.

He was early and ended up standing back stage waiting for the rest of the football team to get there. He paced anxiously, rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans. They were too thick, Michael was used to wearing fabric that breathed and made his legs easier to move. He supposed that feeling constrained was a part of acting, hiding under the shell of a different personality. Dancing could be like that too, but when he danced he felt like he was just embracing a different part of himself, not jumping into a completely different character. He knew that creating new characters and performing them was also a part of being a dancer, knowing that made him feel a little braver as he prepared himself for his audition. He swallowed and went through the lyrics in his head. He breathed in and out and tried to think of the words as a message to himself.

_Cool, play it cool. Play. It. Cool._

He casually greeted the rest of the football team as the filed in and it felt a little odd. He never did get used to the fact that he was their dancer teacher o sorts, and that their place on the football team depended entirely on their performance during the musical, which meant that they were all depending on his instruction. Though Michael agreed that dance was beneficial to sport performance, he didn't necessarily like the pressure. With school work, glee, dance, football, his dad pressure about getting into a good college, and the possibility of getting a role in the musical, he was stretched pretty thin. He only had Blaine and dance to keep himself from having a completely mental breakdown.

This was probably a bad idea. His hands were sweating and his nerves were on edge as his fellow football players patted him roughly on the back to wish him good luck. Each pat made his stomach lurch uncomfortably. It felt passive aggressive, like they were wishing him good luck and telling him not to screw it up or he would find himself with a lot more social inconvenience at McKinley high. He told himself that the football team was not a made up of mobsters as he peered out from behind the curtains to see Artie, Coach Beiste, and Mrs. Pillsbury taking their seats behind what Michael liked to call The Table of Judgment.

With another shuddering breath and a confident nudge from both Sam and Puck, Mike stepped out onto the stage, his hands feeling unbelievably thick and heavy as they rested pathetically next to his sides as he walked to the center of the stage. He announced that he was auditioning for any role that they would give him but that he would be singing one of Riff's songs and everything after that was an adrenaline filled blur.

He bowed his way out with a stupid grin on his face and found himself running into Tina.

"H-hey, Tina," Mike stuttered out. She beamed up at him and patted him happily on the back.

"You did awesome out there, Mike."

"Really? Thanks!" Mike wiped his sweating hands on his jeans again peered out at the producers. Both Coach Beiste and Mrs. Pillsbury were leaning into and whispering to Artie. His stomach churned unpleasantly as he watched their facial expressions. "Are you going next?" He asked before looking back at her.

"I don't know," Tina whispered, showing her sudden panic. "I feel kind of like I'm betraying some kind of code by not telling Rachel and Mercedes that I'm trying out."

"The way I see it, Tina, is you get the part and the two of them sulk or they stop talking to you. If you don't get the part they'll never know. If it's the first option, and I think it will be, then remember that both of them are great but," Mike scrunched up his nose and shrugged a little, trying to put on his best adorable face, "you are way more awesome."

Tina giggled and pushed Mike's arm playfully. "Just because I'm "more awesome;" doesn't mean I'm going to get the part."

"You're talented, Tina. You just aren't one to scream about wanting attention all the time," Mike waved his hands empathically before resting them on her shoulders with a playful smile. "You got this. Go on, make us proud."

"Make who proud?"

"Uh…the background singers? I guess?"

Tina crinkled up her nose and smiled knowingly as she nodded her head. Her high-heeled boots made echoing sounds as she marched confidently across the stage. He watched as she made her introduction and then decided to slip out into the hallway to call Blaine.

* * *

><p>After babbling to Blaine about how he thought the audition went and what he thought he messed up on and what he thought everyone else thought of Blaine managed to squeeze in a few comforting and impressed words, including his mentioning that Mike never talked that much.<p>

"Ah, well you know me. I hardly ever talk."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I'm very shy and very timid. And cute," Mike was in his house now, completely alone and holding his phone between his shoulder with a smirk on his lips.

"Okay, Sunshine," Mike grinned when he heard Blaine's teasing and happy tone.

"Awww, you thought I was cute didn't you?"

"Hello, boy talked to me, boy who played with me even though I was the garbage boy, boy who brought me flowers and drew a little picture for me. Of course I thought you were cute. By the way, we should totally go to that field that you told me about, I mean I still have the map and everything."

Mike winced. "I went back there a few summers back and it's now a bunch of rich people cabins."

After a pause Blaine finally responded, "That's stupid. I had this whole big plan about having a picnic and lying there until dusk and blah blah blah, stupid fantasy that I've had for several stupid years now."

He felt his cheeks heat up in flattered embarrassment. "I do recall being stood up for a date there a long time ago. That definitely needs to make up for that."

"How about this, I'll buy the food if you find a better location. Then I'll make up for that person's heartless behavior." He found himself spread across the couch where he shared his first kiss with Blaine, his smirk had moved from teasing to pleased and peacefully satisfied.

"Good idea, it can be our first date."

They both stopped talking and Michael had to assume it was because Blaine was too busy smiling as much as he was. He managed to blush even more and had to press his face into the side of the couch so he could hide his face from…no one, it just felt like a moment where his face needed to be hidden.

"So I can't believe you actually auditioned," Blaine finally said, Michael could hear the smile in Blaine's voice and couldn't help but be proud of himself for doing so.

"Yeah, I did. I didn't think I was going to go through with it but yeah. I think it will be a nice experience if I get any part. You know I was going to Frank N Furter in our _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ production, but my parents made me drop out," he laughed awkwardly, wishing his face would stop being red even though no one could see him and wishing he never let that fact slip. He remembered feeling particularly brave in volunteering for that part, even though he didn't really want to do it but wanted to feel useful.

There was a long pause before Blaine finally reacted, he pulled in a huge breath and said, "Sorry, I was just imagining you in Frank N Furter's clothing."

"I didn't even get to try it on before the plug got pulled," Mike said with exaggerated exasperation, it earned a happy laugh from Blaine.

"Who took the part in the end?"

"Uhm…Mercedes."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, we didn't end up putting the production on for an audience," Mike felt his phone buzzing against his ear. It was his homework alarm. With a sigh he made his way up the stairs, still talking to Blaine and not planning on hanging up. "So I think I want the part of Riff," he said casually.

"Did you tell them that?"

"Uhhhh no."

"Stupid."

"Yeah…"

"Why Riff?"

"Because he dies. Well Tony and Bernardo die as well but Tony sings too much and I can't pull off a Puerto Rican accent. Anyway, he dies in the first act so I wouldn't have to be on stage for the other half. He dances more often than not. Also, he's pretty badass for his time…though he is racist. But that's what the whole musical is about, race and stuff," his eyes scanned over his texts book as he rambled on. "Though, I really want to be in the _Gee, Officer Kurpke_ song and that is preformed after Riff's death. But maybe Artie will switch it around so Riff sings it, like he did in the movie. I don't really like the way they switched it around in the stage musical._ Cool _applies so much better after Riff's death, not a song about being a social pariah."

"You think about _West Side Story_ a lot?"

"Well yeah, setting and emotion are important when it comes to dance. I can't just listen to the lyrics of the song and throw people together and hope that their faces express all that they are feeling. Isn't that what dance is for? Like singing out everything you feel, except it's your body that is doing the singing." Mike had gone over every YouTube video of stage performances of _West Side Story_, read the script many times, and watched the movie even more, he could say that he was a proficient when it came to the musical. It was important for him as a choreographer to do so. "So anyway, I would rather play Riff than Tony or Bernardo. Riff or just one of the jets."

There was beat and another sharp intake of breath before Blaine responded. "Who do you want to play the other parts?"

"If it were up to me? Tina for Maria, of course."

"I like that idea!"

"Either Santana or Rachel for Anita and maybe Sam as…Tony? I can't really think of anyone that _really _fits the role of Tony. Maybe Puck? Kurt's the only one that has tried out, or so I've been told. Maybe Artie will pull a Mr. Schue and cast himself as Tony."

Mike then proceeded to tell Blaine about Mr. Schuester's idea of becoming a character that wore and very short golden shorts and fraternized with Rachel's character. Blaine agreed that the entire situation was pretty creepy and he admitted that he was glad that they never actually preformed the show in front of an audience. The only break they took from talking to each other was when Blaine said that he needed to take a shower and Mike managed to tease Blaine about the time it took for him to wash the gobs of hair gel out, which caused Blaine to snort and hang up the phone.

He ended up tapping his pencil hard on his desk as he looked over a question in his chemistry book, the anxiousness of almost being done with the assignment causing the words of the question to be slightly blurred and confusing. He peered around is room, looking for his headphones to distract him from the crawling, daunting feeling that was occurring in the pit of his stomach. He pulled them on and put some music on, hoping that it would drown out the upcoming panic attack. His legs began twitching and bouncing as the music began flowing out of his headphones. He managed to take a few deep breathes before finishing with the answer, glad to be escape the threats of breakdown for one more night.

When his phone lit up with Blaine's picture he breathed a little easier. He slid a finger across the screen and pulled his headphones down to his neck before holding the phone up to his ear. Mike asked if Blaine managed to wash all of his hair gel and got a sarcastic laugh in reply. They continued to banter as Mike slide his books and finished homework assignments into his bag, grinning all the while. His heart, which was pounding uncomfortably earlier, moved with the steady emotion that Michael only felt around Blaine. He knew there was a proper terms for the chemical reactions that were occurring in his body to make him feel such a way but when it was about Blaine he didn't want to think about the science and numbers of it all. Such things weren't as important when he had Blaine's voice laughing in his ear.

He flipped from the floor onto his bed, his mind only subconsciously listing all of the things he would need to do the next day as Blaine told a story about how he, his father, and his brother played a few rounds of pointless basket ball and how Blaine only lost by a few points. It was warming to hear about how well Blaine was getting along with his father now, knowing that it was one of the things that Blaine stressed and ranted about the most. When they said their quiet good nights Michael felt the after warmth of talking mindlessly to Blaine for hours cradle him as he closed his eyes and instead of worrying about everything he would need to do, he thought about all of the things that made him happy, like Blaine, dancing, his parents, his friends, and music. Those were the real important things to him and they were the only things that mattered when his thoughts were slipping from reality to a hazy dream state.

* * *

><p>"I'm meeting with him tonight," Sam muttered to Mike as the two of them entered glee club together. Michael arched his eyebrows in surprise, he was sure that Sam was over the idea of Sebastian being a potential boyfriend, considering the fact that Sam never brought up the subject after their impromptu Dalton invasion. He felt worry creep into his sense even stronger, he figured that the lack of comment about Sebastian meant that he wouldn't have to tell Sam about what Blaine had said. He was relieved about not having to add to Sam's stresses, but now it seemed like he would have to say something.<p>

"Are you guys going on a date or something?" Mike asked when they were seated in the back corner of the room, away from prying eyes and ears

"I think so," Sam was absolutely glowing with happiness, his big grin showing for the first time in what felt like ages. "We're going to the movies and then hanging out at his house. He said he wanted to make it look like we are just two guys hanging out or whatever so I would be comfortable."

"That is very nice of him," Mike tapped his legs nervously with his fingers and forced a tight smile. He wasn't surprised that Sam caught onto his discomfort.

"What's up, Mike?"

"It's just…"Michael mumbled a little and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

"Just what?"

"I don't trust him and-and I've heard some things," Mike winced when Sam's expression hardened into a disbelieving stare. He extended his hand to place on Sam's back but thought better of it, retracting his hand back to his lap.

"What did you hear?" Sam looked tense as well as embarrassed to be further discussing such a delicate subject in such a public room.

Mike chewed his bottom lip nervously and debated on what exactly he was going to tell Sam. Sam looked so happy at the prospect of dating someone he was attracted to, Mike didn't want to ruin that but he also didn't want Sam walking blindly into Sebastian's arms without knowing who he truly was.

"I just heard some things from Blaine. I'm not saying that you should back off from him entirely, just take it slow. Wait until you guys have an established relationship before you take it anywhere too serious," Mike felt his own shoulders tense up when Sam's expression didn't soften.

"You told Blaine, didn't you?"

"What? Of course not!" Mike shook his head and gave Sam his most confused expression; Sam should have known him better then to tell anyone, even Blaine. He then withdrew his confused scowl and looked down at his hands. "Someone else told him." He took in a long breath before saying, "Sebastian told him." He still couldn't look at Sam but he swallowed hard as he felt the tension increase.

"Well," Sam's voice was surprisingly light, which caused Mike to snap his head back up to analyze his expression. "Sebastian probably just figured that Blaine already knew. Blaine is my friend after all."

Mike felt both pleased and annoyed. He was sure that Sam would be upset by Sebastian's slip up, if he could even call it a slip up. According to Blaine, Sebastian was crafty, talented, and stubborn and Mike was inclined to believe him. "Maybe that's it. But really, dude, be careful with him. From what I have been told he's not the most trustworthy guy and he might want to uhm," Michael looked away from Sam, his eyes flitting about the room for a distraction as he thought about the right words, "take things too far too soon."

"Is that what you and Blaine did?"

He blinked quickly, his mouth slack in surprise as he looked back over at Sam. Was Sam trying to change the subject? "Uhm, Blaine and I haven't taken it that far."

"Why not?"

Mike was ready to tell Sam that it was really none of his business but he realized that saying that would make him a complete hypocrite.

"Because we've only been together for three weeks and one day" and twelve hours, you know, give or take an hour or so, "I'm not planning to take things that direction until I feel like we're both ready, no matter how much I feel for him," Mike ended awkwardly. He was glad that Rachel and Mercedes were having another fight so no one could hear or pay attention to his conversation with Sam.

"Well, I'm not Blaine, okay? I don't need to take it slow," Sam replied bitterly.

Mike's eyes widened. He was nonplussed by Sam's offended tone and glare. "You can take it at whatever pace you like. Sebastian doesn't pace though, he gets what he wants and then he leaves. I'm just trying to help you, man."

"I don't need your help. I can date who I want to date, Mike. Can't you just be happy for me for once?"

His eyes went from widened to narrowed as his anger equaled Sam's. Since when was Mike not being happy for Sam some kind of on-going routine? "I'm sorry," Mike returned with the same bitter tone. "Forget about everything I just said. I wasn't aware that preventing my friend from dating a douche bag was cause for anger."

Sam's glare deepened. "I'm tired of waiting around, Mike. Sebastian is actually interested and I don't see anyone else lining up to be with me."

They both walked behind the rest of the glee club as they made their way to the auditorium for Rachel and Mercedes' Diva-off. Everyone was ignoring Artie's protests that the two girls weren't the only possible candidates for the role of Maria.

"Why does it matter so much, Sam? You're seventeen, not thirty, life isn't hanging on romance."

"Easy for you to say, your love interests just fall into your lap without hesitation."

Mike shook his head in disbelief. "Come on, Sam. This isn't about me."

Sam mumbled something in response before moving to sit in between Puck and Brittany. Mike had to stand still for a moment as he processed what Sam had muttered. He blinked in surprise and confusion as he plopped down behind Quinn and Artie. Did Sam really say that this was about Mike? If he did then how?

How was it even remotely about Mike? He felt his stomach strain at the idea that he had something to do with Sam's reckless choice. He felt guilty, angry, and pressured again. He was a string that was ready to break under a tight pull. Maybe Sam felt jealous of Mike's relationship with Blaine? Well, Sam wouldn't have so much trouble if he was more open about his sexuality.

"Okay, as awesome as that was," Artie spoke up right after the two girls finished singing into each other's faces on the stage. "And as dope as you two are, I think it should be made clear that you two aren't the only options we have for the part. So no matter who did better in this…whatever it is, it doesn't mean that either of you will get the part."

Rachel and Mercedes looked at Artie as if they just realized that he was there. Rachel's stance was stiff as she crossed her arms and flicked her hair to the side while Mercedes slouched a little, disappointed.

"Who else auditioned?" Rachel said, clearly annoyed that someone else would challenge her. "I need that role."

"Well, Santana did," Mike glanced over to see a smirking Santana giving a casual high five to Sam and Brittany. "And so did-"

Mike didn't think before he sent a light kick to the back of Artie's chair. This got a glare from both Artie and Quinn and so he leaned forward to explain the situation. "Tina doesn't want them to know, you know? She doesn't want to get sucked into the drama." He whispered just so the two in front of him could hear him. Artie opened his mouth in slight realization and nodded his head.

"What? What are you whispering about?" Rachel said, pointing at mike, Quinn, and Artie like they were conspiring against her.

"Mike auditioned for Maria, Rachel. He's serious competition," Quinn said, her voice incredibly steady and monotone as she spoke.

After a few moments of silence the three of them burst into laughter, while the girls on the stage scoffed. Mike caught Tina's eye as they left the auditorium, she smiled and mouthed a "thank you." He smiled back at her as he gave Artie a good push up the ramp, it was harder then usually considering the fact that Quinn was sitting in Artie's lap.

"You wanna see Beth, Mike?" Quinn asked, tilting her head back, grinning up at him from Artie's lap. "Shelby brought her to school today."

"We think Sugar might eat her," Artie stated in a matter-of-fact way.

"Eat her, or steal her," Quinn said with a laugh.

"I think I'll pass, I got a thing," it was the truth, he did need to talk to his chemistry teacher about the chapters he needed to study for the upcoming test, but he also didn't want to get involved with something that might cause future drama between his friends and babies did seem to cause a lot of drama, he didn't want to take that risk at all.

He already had his own unexpected drama to deal with. He pulled his phone out on his way to chemistry class and sent a text to Sam. After he was done he realized that Sam didn't bother gracing him with a reply. Mike didn't think he could take this, having his best friend be mad at him, but he carried it with a deep breath and an unsettling feeling in his chest.

* * *

><p>"Six more days," Blaine's voice said happily over the other end of the phone when Mike picked dup. "Six more days and I'll be free and we can go on our first date and I'll be able to see your face again and I'll finally be able to…" he trailed on and on about the things he was going to finally be able to do, like his mere grounding was more like a two year prison sentence. Mike managed to genuinely grin for the first time that day as he listed off some of the movies that came out and explained that there were new things about their country that Blaine had missed out on during his prison time.<p>

"Also, since you are going to be free in six days I thought I would give you a heads up: earth is trapped in the Medusa Cascade and I'm pretty sure the Daleks are behind it somehow."'

There was a long pause before Blaine responded, "Is this another Doctor Who reference that I don't understand?"

The way Blaine's voice turned up in an adorable little peak of confusion caused Mike's stomach to jolt pleasantly. "Yeah it is, you have to watch it some time. Or not, I don't know if it's really something you would be interested in."

"I'm willing to try it out, we can have a marathon or something. Oh, Sam can join us!"

The comfortable lurch in Mike's stomach switched instantly into a bundle of nervous anger and sadness, "uh, I don't think that's a good idea. I think he is mad at me."

"Did you tell him about Sebastian then?"

"Obviously," Mike said with a defeated sigh, "I don't know why he got so upset with me. Well I kind of understand why, no one likes being told things like that about someone their interested in. He did kind of say it was my fault though. Or he said it was about me to be more accurate."

He was surprised to hear a chuckle in response and he instantly frowned. He didn't see the humor in the situation at all, and it made him feel apprehensive.

"I'm sorry, this is out of place, but you sound kind of like an adorable whining puppy when you use that tone." Michael's frown deepened and he felt his cheeks color. Back to the point, he said it was about you, do you know why?"

"I have no idea. Maybe he is jealous? He was talking about how everything is easy for me when it comes to relationship."

"Maybe he is jealous, yeah," Blaine's voice was a little quiet as if he was keeping something from him.

"Yeah?"

"Uhm, yeah. You know what? Let me try to talk to him, okay?"

Michael sat back in his chair and sighed again. He didn't like these stresses that were adding on to his already extensive pile of them, he couldn't deny that he was happy that Blaine could help him out. "Alright, if you think you can help." He felt the strain loosen a bit as he accepted Blaine's help and let out a loud sigh. "Thank you."

Blaine hummed a simple acknowledgement and Michael couldn't help but smile again.

The stuck to the habit of talking until one of them decided it was time for sleep, which usually resulted with the two of them going to bed around one or two in the morning. It was okay with Michael, staying up that late. It gave him more time to do his homework and having Blaine chatting away in his ear was like an anchor, keeping him from sinking into panic. They chose to talk about their first date, and then their future, and then Mike's future in particular. Mike mentioned that his parents wanted him to get into Stanford or Harvard and that he already applied to the two of them.

"But," Blaine's voice was strained and quiet again, like he had more that he wanted to say, "are you sure it's safe to just apply to two colleges? I mean, those two are pretty hard to get into and I'm not saying you aren't good enough to get into them but it's kind of like Dalton, sometimes you need the right connections, the right family."

Michael couldn't help but be momentarily defensive, "I didn't know that I didn't have the "right" family, thanks for telling me." He grumbled in his most sarcastic voice.

"_Michael_," the tone of Blaine's response reminded him heavily of his mother and he bowed his head down and smiled, even though he was still annoyed. Definitely still annoyed. Okay, not really.

"Blaine," he replied, his tone blank and emotionless. He was too stubborn to admit that his sarcasm wasn't really necessary.

"I didn't mean it that way and you know it."

"Yeah," Mike breathed out. "I'm sorry."

There was an awkward pause before Blaine continued, "what I was trying to say that it would be safe to apply to other schools. I'm sure your dad will agree."

"My dad said that if I don't get into either of those he could probably get me into his school, but I really don't want to have him as my mathematics professor."

"No, I mean like, you could try getting into a dance school? Or something like that? What about _Juilliard_ or _Alvin Ailey_ or_ Joffrey_. Have you ever thought about applying to those schools? You could send videos of you dancing and yeah…" Blaine trailed off uncomfortably and Mike could practically hear his nervous fidgeting from his end of the phone.

"I-I don't know, Blaine," of course he had looked at those options, his Google search engine was full of the names of dance schools and their websites and the scholarship options, because there was no way his dad was going to pay for him to go to one of those schools, he even managed to sneak a few brochures out of Mrs. Pillsbury's office along with one labeled "Put That Cigarette Down it Makes Others Frown!" But his actions only made the feat feel more hopeless. As much as he loved dancing, it was just a hobby, at least that was what he told himself. "I don't think that's the future for me."

"Why not?"

"Because, dance is something that people do at weddings, okay? I can't make a career out of it. I can't make a stable future out of it," he chewed on his bottom lip and flipped his trig book close with yet another sigh.

"There are successful dancers, why do you think there are so many dance schools?"

"I'm not like them." Mike started picking at the corner of his text book as he heard Blaine let a very annoyed sigh.

"That's kind of the point. You aren't at all like them, your super special and I-I think you could make it so far if you just-if you just let it happen. I just think it would be really good if you took advantage of your talent. You know?" Mike couldn't help but notice that Blaine's voice was cracking as he spoke and how he let out a very shaky breath when he finished his speech.

There was another pause before Mike could collect his own words. He was surprisingly numb in reaction to what Blaine said to him. It was as if Blaine was speaking out his inner desires, words that he was too afraid to even think to himself. Never did he think about it as a _realistic_ idea, more like some kind of childish day dream. After a moment of his eyes searching frantically around for something to distract him while his hand clutched his phone with a strong grip. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"Thank you," Blaine replied with a sigh of relief as if Mike was doing him some kind of big favor. He didn't really know how he was supposed to reply, he was still slightly reeling at the idea of actually pursuing a dancing career. Part of him wanted nothing more while the other part of him didn't know if he could do it, performing wasn't exactly his strongest suit, most of the time he felt like he wasn't star quality, but something about Blaine's words gave him hope that maybe he was. Or maybe he could be.


	21. Riff

**Authors Note: Not beta'd. Also, trigger warning: panic attacks.**

* * *

><p>Sam didn't answer the phone-Blaine wasn't disheartened and in fact, expected this-and after a few attempts during the day, Blaine decided that it would be best to text…repeatedly.<p>

**-Hey, Sam. Could you pick up your phone? I really think that we should talk.-**

** -Sam, I'm serious. You need to let me explain.-**

** -Please?-**

** -I don't want to get annoying but I will if you don't answer.-**

** -Sam.-**

** -Sam.-**

** -Sam Sam Sam Sam-**

** -Samantha.-**

** -Samuel?-**

** -Is Sam short for Samuel in your case?-**

** -Is your name Samuel?-**

** -I wish Blaine was short for something. Like Blaineol, or Blainen, or-**

** -Never mind. Blaine is fine. Just Blaine.-**

After shaking his head at himself and rubbing a hand through his hair few times, Blaine finally composed a lengthy text message to his friend, hoping that all of his expressions could be understood under the constricting structure of text.

**-Okay, fine. I'll stop being annoying and just get to the point. Michael told me that you got mad at him for telling you what Sebastian said. The thing is, I asked him to tell you those things. I know it's none of my business and none of Michael's business, I just didn't want you to end up getting hurt or having too high of an expectation for him, because I care about you and you're my friend. As long as you know what you are going into and you're okay with it then I won't bug you about it anymore. I didn't want you to think that it was going to be something else.-**

It took a while for it to send because of its length and so Blaine had to wait anxiously for the word "sending" to change into the word "send."

When his phone buzzed away in his hand he instantly picked it up without looking at the screen to see who was calling. He let out a very worried "Hello?" and was taken aback by the loud greeting he got in return, so much that he had to pull his head away from the speaker a little bit.

"Hello, Blaine!" Kurt's cheery voice said from the other end.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine slowly smiled, kind of relieved that he wasn't going to be stuck with an awkward conversation with Sam Evans just yet. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, just trying to catch up with you. How are things? By the way Mike is constantly smiling at school, I'm guessing things are good?"

Blaine couldn't help but blush and put a hand on the back of his neck, which was suddenly hot for no apparent reason, at Kurt's words. "He smiles a lot?" He grinned into his palm as he said it, feeling very much like a child.

"I may have been a good friend with a very watchful eye."

"Is that so?" Blaine tried not to sound too eager as he sat up on his bed, the giddy feelings because he possibly encouraged a smile on Mike's face ran through his stomach with pleasurable churns. He ended up with his hand over his abdomen as he waited impatiently for Kurt to give him more detail.

"Okay, but it's usually when he thinks nobody is looking," Kurt did sound a bit wistful as he spoke, like he was reviewing a really cheesy romance movie, like _The Notebook_, a movie that Blaine could never jump on board with when they were dating. "And he is usually alone and sitting away from everyone else, and he gets this kind of big smile on his face and he kind of blushes. Oh god, it's so pathetic and stupid."

"Uh huh, sure, Kurt," Blaine's tone is completely unconvinced, having heard the little crack in Kurt's voice at the end of his short speech. "Okay, enough about that. How are things with you? W-with Dave?"

"Dave? David? Oh, yeah. I guess you haven't heard," Kurt's voice turned from vibrant and teasing to dull and annoyed. "He broke up with me."

Blaine blinked, surprised.

"_He_ broke up with _you_?" He asked, not sure if he heard Kurt right. He never pictured their break up being Dave Karofsky's decision. Not that Dave seemed like a passive, quiet, complacent kind of guy, it was just that Kurt was so powerful and dominant and strong-minded that even a guy like Dave didn't seem capable of voicing a louder opinion, or even having the idea to end something before him. But Blaine was nothing like Dave, he didn't know how the guy thought. Hell, he didn't even know what Kurt saw in the guy.

"Yeah," Kurt said with a sigh, "well, it's more of a break, but the thing is, he said he wanted to give it a break because he's not ready to be in a relationship and doesn't think it's fair to me to have to hide our relationship because he's not out yet. He doesn't want to feel pressured into coming out either," Kurt's voice took a bored tone as if he had repeated the words over and over in his head and out loud. "I don't know. Maybe he found someone else and he's just trying to be nice about the whole thing."

"Oh? He's not going to outright say 'Kurt, I think we really rushed into this relationship and that I was only dating you because I wanted to be in love' instead he's going to pretend that he doesn't want to you to wait around for him to come out?" Blaine couldn't help but let a little teasing tone into his words so Kurt didn't think he was still bitter.

"Shut up, Blaine," Kurt said acidly, but he managed a small laugh afterward.

"So, are you going to be alright?" Blaine asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I think. I'll be okay. It's not like it was a terrible and emotional break up. Mercedes told me about her break up with Sam last night and oh boy, I'm surprised that she can even be in the same room as him, I can't tell you the details because it's too personal, but it pissed me off the minute she told me." Kurt let out a ragged breath; clearly he was getting upset just thinking about.

"I'm actually waiting for Sam to call me," Blaine said, hoping to change the subject a little bit. He had a feeling they both knew why it didn't work out with Mercedes and he was a little confused if it was something they should even talk about if Sam wanted to keep it under wraps, and for all he knew Mercedes didn't tell Kurt the whole truth _or_ Sam and Mercedes didn't break up because Sam was gay and it was for another reason entirely. He didn't want to mention anything that might unintentionally out Sam.

"Oh? Why?"

"He got in a fight with Michael and I'm trying to fix some-some miscommunications," Blaine pulled his head away from the phone to check for any messages or missed calls and his stomach flopped pathetically to see that he had an unread message. He would read it after he was done talking with Kurt.

Kurt hummed an understanding response. "If you do manage to talk to him, tell him that I'm going to reveal to the entire school that he dyes his hair for what he did to my friend."

"No, I'm not going to tell him that. He's my friend and he tried to tell Mercedes he was sorry, but she's just too stubborn and prideful," he was beginning to think that maybe Kurt didn't hear the whole story, thinking that if Kurt knew the position that Sam was coming from he would understand at least a little.

"Oh no, Blaine Anderson! We are not going to start fighting about this. You've only heard his half of the story. You don't have all the facts."

"Hello, I'm a black kettle, you must be a black pot," Blaine couldn't help but laugh a little as he rolled his eyes. He checked his phone again to see that he had two unread messages now. He was getting anxious but didn't want to hang up on his friend.

Kurt responded with a reluctant sigh of defeat and changed the subject so he wouldn't have to verbally admit his mistake. He told Blaine about how well he thought his audition went and how he thought the musical was going to end up, something that Blaine was actually pretty interested in.

"Apparently Santana auditioned for Maria," Kurt said with a hint of disdain in his tone.

"Is that a bad thing? I don't know her that well but she seems to have the right sort of presence."

Kurt let out a snort of laughter. "I guess I'm just bias. Santana would probably do pretty good, but I Rachel and Mercedes seem to want it more, and honestly, Rachel needs the role so she can get in NDAYA."

Blaine, not feeling particularly attached to Rachel, didn't really care if she got the role or not, he secretly hoped that Tina would get the role, he certainly liked her more than Rachel and she deserved it more in his opinion. He decided not to tell Kurt his thoughts, Michael told him that no one really knew that Tina auditioned for the role and that she wanted to keep it quiet.

"Has anyone else auditioned for Tony?"

There was long pause before Kurt responded. "Not that I know of. Do _you_ know if anyone else has?"

"Why would I know?"

"Ugh, did Mike audition for Tony?" Kurt blurted out.

A loud, uncomfortable laugh jumped out of Blaine's throat before he could stop himself. "Uh, he just auditioned, not for any particular role. He did say that he kind of wanted to be Riff." Blaine secretly hoped that Mike would be cast as Tony, if anyone deserved that spot light it was Mike. Of course, Blaine thought Kurt deserved it too, from what he saw of their club it was mainly Finn and Rachel in the front line. Both Kurt and Mike never got the male lead part in any of their professional performances, Blaine thought that it was a little unfair. But he really didn't have room to talk, considering the fact that for the entire year before none of the other Warbler's got to sing lead. A familiar twinge of guilt pinched his gut as the thought crossed his mind.

"He's not a good enough singer to be Tony. But Riff might work for him."

"I think he could be if he had some practice," Blaine said defensively.

"I would say that you could teach but I don't think that would end very well. You two might get distracted by each other," Kurt's laugh was a little bitter but genuine, he then muttered that the two of them were too cute for it to be healthy.

"We're not cute!" Blaine muttered back, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and slightly emasculated.

"Okay, Mike is cute and you aren't."

"What?" Blaine gasped out, sitting up straighter on his bed.

"Oh yeah, you better hold on tight to him," Blaine could hear the heavy sarcasm in Kurt's tone, accompanied by the crack of laughter in the end of his speech. "I'm going to seduce him with my fantastic dance moves. I've been told, by him, that I have a very distracting sashay. "

"We can't be friends anymore"

"Hmm Mike Chang as my incredibly hot and flexible boyfriend or Bland Anderson has my boring rival Warbler best friend? Decisions, decisions," Kurt was unashamedly laughing by the time he finished.

"Oh my god, if you seduce Michael, which I doubt you can do because you are definitely not his type, I will tell everyone about that time you ate too much pizza at the Warbler's consolation party after regionals last year and had terrible gas the rest of the night."

"I-I will deny it."

"Doesn't matter. It will still be out there. Everyone will know about it whether it is true or not."

"Ah, the vicious cycle of teenage gossip is doomed to ruin my golden reputation at McKinely High," Kurt seemed full of bitter tones that night. There was a very loud silence as Blaine thought of something comforting to say. He was on the verge of saying something magnificently sympathetic when Kurt spoke again. "We need to hang out, I miss you."

Blaine felt his mouth fall open a little in surprise. "Totally, I'm ungrounded in five days." He managed to say happily.

" Great! We should meet up on Saturday!"

"I can't. I have-I have a date."

Kurt let out a scoff but Blaine could hear a hint of his smile in is voice as he spoke, "I guess that's reason enough to ignore your friend."

"It's not ignoring, I still know you are there, even if you're on the shelf."

"Friendships left on the shelves for too long will go bad and expire, and possibly make you sick."

"We'll hang out on Sunday, okay? We'll watch a movie and make sure to eat things that aren't expired, and we will avoid all things that are metaphors for friendships gone bad. Sound good?"

"Oh fine, and you don't need to tell me how needy I am, I already know."

Blaine flinched, he never thought that he would find himself pitying Kurt again, but his words were in such a tone that it reminded Blaine of when they first met, that hallow and choked sound that made Blaine feel for him so powerfully. Back then Blaine saw Kurt as a possible protégé, someone he could help and teach. Things worked out very differently then he thought it would.

"What's wrong?"

There was a pause and then Kurt's voice finally cracked as he said, "a lot of things," there was a very emotional sigh to interrupt his speech before he began. "I don't know if anyone told you but I wanted to because student president, you know, to put on my application for NYADA, and then Brittany decided to run for it as well and she is getting so much support because-"

"She's a pretty, dumb, blonde girl with nice legs?"

"Exactly. And I need the part of Tony so I can put it on my application as well, but I don't think I'm going to get it because, I'm so-I'm such-I'm just-I'm really….quote gay unquote," he laughed sentimentally, "David used to joke about it all the time. There's another thing, David. Not only did he break up with me, but he transferred to a different school for his senior year because all the rumors going around since prom. I still talk to him, but, I really like him, Blaine. I know that you don't know him that well, but he really is a great guy. He is proud and sometimes grumpy, but I'm pretty hot-headed myself sometimes so we did clash a lot. He's adorably oblivious about some things, but really intelligent about other things, he's really good at math did you know that? He's helping me prepare for college, too. Helping me pick out schools but I told him I really just want to go to NYADA and then we got in a fight because he's stupid and thinks I won't make it in, but really I probably won't make it in, I don't know what I will do if I don't. And Rachel decided that she was going to run for class president, against me. She was supposed to support me, not go against me. And this whole thing with Sam and Mercedes isn't helping at all either."

Blaine didn't really know how to respond to Kurt's sudden change in voice, from distraught to nostalgic to panicked to angry and then a small moment of frustration. Deciding not to bring up Sam again he just pretended like he didn't hear anything about it.

"Whoa, whoa, Kurt. I doubt he thinks you won't get in, I'm sure he just wants you to have more options in the slim chance that you don't get in. Michael has applied for multiple schools so he always has something to fall back on," he laughed inwardly, thinking it odd that he agreed with David Karofsky on something.

"Maybe you're right, maybe David's right. I don't know where else I'm supposed to go, though."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "you don't have to go to college right after you graduate, Kurt. You can wait a few semesters before you make any decisions or apply for any schools and you'll be okay." Blaine's father gave the 'College-is-not-your-enemy' to Cooper so many times in the past few weeks that Blaine could probably recite it without hesitation if he really wanted to.

Kurt rambled on about all of his worries while Blaine tried his best to sympathize and find solutions for his friend and it was another fifteen minutes before Kurt proclaimed that he had to make dinner and quickly hung up the phone.

With an awkward sigh, a combination of relief and worry, Blaine checked his messages. There was two of them, one from Sam, thank god, and one from Michael.

**- I get it Blaine I didnt go out with him tonight OK?- **Was Sam's text. Blaine could tell that he did get annoying with his multiple texts and decided to just respond with a simple **–Okay.-**

Michael's text was a little bit longer and little more uplifting. **–Sam just called. He told me that he was still mad at me, but that he understood. I tried calling you but it went straight to voice mail. Call me when you can?-**

He felt guilty. He couldn't help but feel guilty. He didn't like that he pretty much pressured Sam into not going out with a guy and when Michael picked up his phone he confessed this guilt without a muttering a single salutation after Mike's hello.

There was a long pause, and Blaine suspected that Michael's mouth was sort of hanging open in surprise and confusion.

"I know it wasn't really our place, but I think it's for the best. Sam really isn't into the kind of relationship that Sebastian is interested in, trust me, I know this."

"What exactly did he say to you?"

Another long pause occurred.

"Well, he was serious about that whole still being mad at me. He-he said that he was," Mike cleared his throat and Blaine couldn't believe that this was his second time within the hour that he was facing the anxiety of someone he cared about. Of course, Michael was on edge a lot since school started, and Blaine was disheartened by it but also happy when he could change the tightened and strained tone in Mike's voice to calm and laughing with one good phrase every time they talked on the phone. "He said that he needed to take a break from me." Mike finished his sentence with a shaky exhale.

"And what did you say to that?" Blaine sat up, feeling the tension rise in him as he thought about what Sam probably meant by that.

"I said that I understood."

"Do you understand?"

"I think I do," the way Michael phrased his answer gave Blaine the unwelcome feeling of jealously, which he quickly shoved away and replaced with genuine worry for his boyfriend and his friend.

"Well?"

"Well, what? Do you want me to say what I think he means?"

"Yes."

"Do you promise you won't laugh at me or call me an idiot?"

Blaine's mouth twitched up a little in a tiny smile. "I can't promise anything like that." Mike returned the sentiment with a nervous chuckle.

"I think I'm a pretty oblivious friend."

Blaine hummed in agreement.

"And I think Sam might like me as more than a friend. Is that a ridiculous idea?"

He didn't quite know how to respond. He felt like he was going to end up on the wrong side of a romantic-comedy. He imagined Michael, searching endlessly for his first love with a friend that was secretly in love with him. In the end Michael, being the clear protagonist in this movie, finds his first love, is unimpressed, and realizes that he is in love with his best friend after said friend admits that he has feelings for Michael. As much as he wanted to avoid that situation at all costs, Blaine knew that it would be best to face the romantic-comedy scenario head on with a steady and ready gaze.

"I think that is a very realistic and probable."

Mike groaned heavily and Blaine could practically hear him throw his head back in frustration. "How long have you known?"

"I've had my suspicions since the road trip," he managed to keep his voice calm as he spoke, though he could feel his heart racing

"Why didn't you say anything?"

_Because I'm selfish._ "Because I didn't know if he was gay or not. Even though I really thought he was I didn't want to go blab off about my theory to you because that's like outing him in a way, it's disrespectful. Also, I didn't really want it to be true." _Do_ you_ want it to be true?_

"What I am supposed to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't want to hurt him. He's my best friend."

Blaine held in an audible sigh of relief but managed to relax a lot more against his bed after Mike's unwittingly reassuring answer.

He took a long breath before he spoke, "I guess you should give him the space he wants and needs. Wait for him to talk to you."

"Yeah," Michael admitted woefully.

"It's not your fault, Michael. You didn't lead him on or anything. I think he knows that, okay? Or else he would have done something? If he talks to you then he talks to you. Just give him time. I-I know that's what I would like if I wanted to be with you and you didn't want to be with me."

"I guess I'm lucky that there weren't any miscommunications then," Blaine felt himself warm to Mike's suddenly calm and easy tone and a grin spread across his lips.

"I think it took longer than it should have honestly," he returned, teasingly.

"Hey, it takes two."

"Don't you know that I'm the girl in this situation and you're the boy? You have to do all the running, chasing after trains and climbing up to windows and everything and I do all the crying and moping in my room."

"Let's spilt it in half, okay? I'll climb up to windows and you can chase after trains. Neither of us should do the crying. Well, not crying over each other. Sometimes movies make me cry, like _The_ _Lion King_ or _August Rush_ or movies like that," they both burst into laughter before relaxing into a lengthy chat about their favorite movies and the movies that made them cry the most or made them the most embarrassed.

Their conversation for the rest of the night was light and shallow. Though the thoughts of Sam and other worrisome situations lingered in the back of their throats, waiting to be said but kept way by the need to find simplicity in each other.

With a small and happy reminder that there was only five days until the two of them could meet they saved their said their goodnights with ease. Blaine turned under his comforter, thinking of Michael and of Sam and the way his Aunt smiled at him when he determinedly told her that Sunshine was real. What would she think of him now? These thoughts lingered in his head as he drifted from awake to asleep and before he finally slipped away into sleep he decided that she would be proud.

* * *

><p>His name was there. Bold and black and printed so neatly in Times New Roman font. Across from the curves that so smoothly formed the g at the end of his last name and a few tiny dots was another name. It was short, definite, and sold. Riff. Did Riff have a last name? Mike admitted to himself that it didn't really matter, and that those four letters were more than enough to settle old nerves and cause a whole new spark of them to erupt inside of him.<p>

Not bothering to check the rest of the cast list, Mike quickly called Blaine to express how he felt about getting the part he really wanted. Unfortunately, he got Blaine's voice mail again and realized with a quick palm to his forehead that Blaine was probably in class. He would have to hold in his ruminations, doubts and excitements until he could talk to Blaine. Hoping that it wouldn't take too long he sent a text for Blaine to call him as soon as he could and spun a little on the spot before he walked down the hallway.

When he got to Glee club he was gripping so tightly onto his phone he was sure it was going to break because of his grip and because of the nervous sweat that was building in his palms. He was surprised by a heavy force suddenly pressing onto him and embracing him. It was then he realized just how dazed he was, still living and breathing in the shock of his new found role. He looked down at a beaming Tina as she let go and babbled on about her excitement.

"I can't believe it," her face was red with emotion as she jumped a little. "Did you see? You did see right? I got her. I got Maria," Tina said so quickly that Mike had to run her words through his head a few times before they clearly registered to him.

"Oh my god, congratulations!" He said, picking her up in another hug. "I didn't even check the rest of the list," Mike quickly looked around the room to see that Kurt was the only other person that looked excited, but his excitement was partially hidden by a distant look of pity for a sobbing Rachel. Santana looked smug and Mercedes wasn't even there.

"You got Riff, though. Are you excited?" Tina asked, still grinning.

"I-I guess. Yeah, totally. I mean-I haven't decided. I'm nervous," he couldn't put words to what he was feeling. There was too much.

"Have you told Blaine? I just told Wes and he's going to take me out to dinner tonight to celebrate. I need to tell my parents though," Tina started babbling again.

Mike was about to tell her that this was the most he ever heard her say when his thoughts dropped and zeroed in on one thing, his parents, more specifically, his father. Mike's mouth went suddenly tight, cutting off his ability to breathe in properly he had to close his eyes and swallow hard so he could gather up enough air. Sure, joining a class that took up mere free period time was one thing, but being a part of the Musical was another. In fact, this Musical was going to take up a lot of his time, considering that he was a leading male and the production choreographer. Would his dad care? He knew his dad and mother cared when he wanted to be Frank N Furter for their Rocky Horror production, and as much as he told people it was because of their objection to him playing a transvestite, the subject of how much time it would take from his studies was another big reason they wouldn't let him. But he was a senior now, he had time now, right?

Of course he didn't have time. Not according to his father. All of high school was about getting your associates degree before graduating (Mike was close, two more credits and he'd have a degree in general studies. He still needed his fine arts credit. Something he was actually looking forward to in college.)

He breathed in an out and peered around the room, Sam was nowhere and he felt another anxious, disappointed flop in his stomach. Sam had done a good job of avoiding him the two days before but Michael was momentarily worried that Sam might take it a step further and not show up to glee club. He felt a little relieved when Sam appeared in the door way with a bright and unaffected smile on his face. Puck greeted him with a "Hey, Officer Kurpke!"

Respecting Sam's wishes from their conversation days ago, Mike didn't congratulate or even look at Sam and made his way to the back of the room. The idea that Sam was avoiding him for different, unsaid reasons caused Mike to feel physically sick because of the guilt it managed to hit him with. Every time he managed to glance over at his old friend he couldn't help but hear Sam's words in the back of his mind reminding him how much he probably hurt Sam. _I can't be around you anymore, Mike. I need a break from you._ That was when it struck Michael Sam's anger was probably not just about Mike's interference. He had to force himself to breathe in again, his mouth moist with a nauseous, disappointed taste.

He decided to start memorizing his lines while the drama between Rachel, Mercedes, and a very way but proud Tina. She glanced over at him and they exchanged equally amused smiles before she gave her attention back to Rachel, who was requesting another audition. Artie was too busy not caring and talking happily with Sam and Puck while Rachel continued to loudly protest that she was born for that role of Maria.

"That's ridiculous Rachel," Santana said, obviously annoyed. "It's a high school musical. Chances are you'll get the chance at that part some other time, jesus…" she mumbled the rest of her sentence in Spanish and looked down at her nails, losing interest quickly.

"My future at NYADA depends on this role," she said dramatically before storming out of the room.

Tina looked over at Michael again, pointedly hiding a smile. When Mercedes walked in the tension came back, but she didn't look ready to snap at Tina, instead she smiled a little coldly and congratulated Tina on getting the role. She seemed to be at least a little glad that someone besides Rachel got the role and mentioned that Tina did as much to deserve the role as she did.

When the class started Mike was surprised to have Kurt sit next to him.

"I have to kiss Tina, I just realized this," he said with a pout after a few moments of silence.

"Ah, don't worry. She's a pretty good kisser, a little aggressive though." They both laughed awkwardly.

* * *

><p>That night, after a few hours of talking to Blaine and simultaneously doing his homework, Michael approached his dad. It was out on the porch while his father took his before-bed smoke. When he stepped out into the night with, his script bound up in his grip, his father looked over with a raised eyebrow before putting out his cigarette. "I got your pamphlet, Michael. You are your mother's son."<p>

"I know, I'm your son too."

"Of course. It's that what you wanted to talk about?"

"No, dad," Mike looked down at his feet as he pushed the script toward his dad. He hated how small he felt, like he was going to shrink until he was a part of the pavement. He felt the script get lightly pulled out of his grip and the ruffle of papers. There was an audible sigh after a few moments, and Mike managed to look up. The familiar taste of guilt and disappointment surfaced in his throat again as he saw his father look flip through the script with furrowed brows.

"You want to audition for this?" His father's voice was clear with wary disdain.

"I already did," Mike's voice cracked, he didn't want it to but he couldn't control it. "And I got a part, a good part but not a lead…obviously. I mean he's a supporting role and, erm, he's not a transvestite." He didn't feel like he was in his own skin as he continued to speak. "I want-I want this, I think. Can you let me decide if I want this? If I want to do this…for like forever," he felt stupid with every word he said, but each one tripped out of his mouth without forethought. He usually thought these speeches out. He was really good at planning ahead, but he unexpectedly started it and knew then that he had to finish it. "If-if I hate it then I hate it and I won't try to make something out of it, but if I do like it then I want to keep doing it. Dad, I have talent," he drew his eyes up again and looked at his dad, who was still staring at him like he was a complete stranger. "I'm good. I-I can't sing but I can dance."

"I knew I shouldn't have let your mother sign you up for those clas-"

"Dad, please, let me do this. I'll make time for this. I'm getting As in all my classes already and I know I can keep it up. I'll," Mike thought of something he could sacrifice and easily thought of the one thing he wouldn't miss all that much, "quit the football team."

His dad remained unimpressed as he looked over at his son. With another long sigh he pulled out another cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag before responding. "I pressure you about getting good grades and doing hard work because I want you to have a good life when you are my age. I want you to be safe with a roof over your head. You can't do any of that if you try to perform. The majority of people don't even make it in that business and they end up on the street. You need to grasp reality, son. I'm not going to pay for your education if you plan to pursue this hobby of yours."

"That's not what I want. I can do that myself. I can pay for myself. I could try for scholarships even. I just want you to support me. I want you to be my," Mike's eyes were starting to sting as he thought of the right words. "Like I want you to be one of those stupid dads that wears an ugly t-shirt just to show how proud they are of their son. I want you to be proud of me."

"Don't be an idiot, Michael."

He blinked and stared over his dad, a new feeling was rushing through him. Heated anger was suddenly licking its way through his body, consuming him entirely. "I didn't know that asking you to be proud of me was such a ridiculous request. And don't call me Michael."He spat. "I'm not your copy."

"I don't want you to be me, Michael. I want you to be better than me."

"Well, that's not a very tall order," Mike yanked the script out of his father's hand and the lit cigarette out of the other. He flicked the cigarette out onto the road, gave his father one last fleeting glance, and walked back into the house. When he reached his room he rubbed at his eyes with his fists and threw the already abused script onto the ground.

He sat down on his bed and glared at his door, daring his father to come up and knock or do anything to fight back. Then, quickly, he realized what an idiot he was being. He never should have talked to his father like that. His father was a hard worker, a great friend, and a father that took care of him. But Michael didn't have it in him to get up and go apologize for being so disrespectful, he didn't have the will to do anything but breathe, which was steadily getting harder to do every second. Breathing was taking up so much of his concentration that he didn't even realize that his mother was calling out to him through his locked bedroom door. It was hot, much too hot. His dad hated him. He couldn't breathe. His dad was going to kick him out and his mom was going to cry. He had to open a window or rub his chest so it would stop burning with pain. He was stupid for thinking that performing would be his future; he couldn't make it out there because he was too weak and quiet. His mouth was full of air, he couldn't breathe it all in, there was too much sickness in his throat. He lied to his father, he wasn't talented enough. His hands were numb and his legs were buzzing beneath him, like they were going to fade away and he would never be able to dance with them again. He was going to fail all of his classes. He was going to mess up Riff so badly that he wouldn't be faced with boos or jeers just disgusted silence. Sam was never going to talk to him again. He wasn't going to have enough time for Blaine and then Blaine would break up with him for Sebastian.

"Michael, you need to breathe," a voice said. It was so far away but coming closer. It was anxious and familiar. He didn't want that voice to sound so upset and so he forced himself to push out a very long breath, it was painful but the voice was following a mantra of phrases. It was a few minutes before he realized where the voice was coming from but the screen of his phone finally registered to him at the corner of his eye and as he pulled it away he noticed that it was slick with sweat from his hand and face. "Are you okay? Should I call someone?" Blaine asked hurriedly, Mike was surprised that he managed to call his boyfriend when his fingers felt so heavy and numb minutes ago.

"No," Mike managed to crack out, "I'm okay, and I just need-let's talk, okay?"

"What's wrong?"

"Let's talk about something else."

"Yeah, sure. Wes told me today that he's worried that Tina's rise to stardom is going to go to her head and she's going to dump him."

That caused Mike to laugh. And then his laugh quickly escalated to dry heaving and salty tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: A few more chapters and I'll be done! Sorry I posted so late, I took a promotion at my job so I work and go to school all the time. <strong>


	22. First Date

**Note: This chapter has not been beta'd**

He woke up with what felt like hammers beating his head from every position. His body felt heavy, like the earth's gravity decided that it would make him heavier and keep him tucked under his sheets and comforter for at least ten minutes after his eyes shot open from a terrible night of sleep. The glow from his phone made the hammer in his head pound even more as it alerted him to wake up. His eyes then quickly, subconsciously, moved to the corner in the room where Sam used to sleep. He remembered the mornings when Sam would be up before him, reading a comic book in the morning light, his eyes so focused and determined to read each page. He stared at the empty space, not blinking and expecting something to happen, expecting something to change. He stared for a few minutes but it felt like hours.

Michael eventually pushed himself out of bed and got ready for his morning run, trying not to let his headache and other mental complications dissuade him from his morning routine. He missed the companionship he used to have whenever Sam would run with him as the cool morning air slapped his face and shot down his throat has he breathed in and out. It was relieving to get so much fresh breathing in after a night of feeling suffocated to the point of dizziness.

He knew it was going to be a long day the minute he walked back into his house. He let out a little groan when he spotted his mother was waiting for him, resting against the threshold to the living room in her bath robe with a mug with warm steam coming out of it. He could smell the herbs from her favorite tea, the tea she always gave him when he was sick, and cringed, unsure if she was going to coddle him or curse at him in Chinese.

Her gaze was wary, like she spent days stressing about something. It pained Mike to see her that way, the guilty burning in his chest so powerfully that he felt his eyes starting to sting again.

"Your father left for work early today. Would you like to take the day off?" Okay, she was in coddling mode; he could handle that a little better. He managed to pass off a flinch as a shrug at the first two words of her sentence and forced a smile. No way could he miss a day of school. He had to show his dad that he could maintain his 4.0 average and manage performing in the musical as well. He wasn't going to give up.

"No, I'll be okay, ma," he said it and he meant it.

"Come here," she placed the cup of tea down and held out her arms, beaming at her son. Michael obeyed and embraced his mother, feeling the tension slip away from them as her arms went around him and she arched her head to rest on his shoulder. It was amazing how small and innocent he felt in her arms, considering the fact that he loomed over her since he turned thirteen. He smiled and closed his eyes as she said, "I'm so proud of you, Michael. You're so strong and brave and I couldn't have asked for a better son."

Mike pulled away and genuinely smiled but remained silent, afraid that if he spoke too soon he would crack and start up a fresh new panic attack.

But she didn't need a vocal response. "He's proud of you too, Michael. He just doesn't know it yet. He does want you to be happy, you know that right?"

"He has a very strange idea about what happiness is."

"I guess he doesn't have a great way to express himself like you do. He wants you to be stable and safe, he wants you to be able to live comfortably, and he wants you to be a hard worker that earns respect. He wants you to go farther than he has. He wants you to reach all of your goals."

"_His_ goals." He rolled his eyes and rubbed at his neck, quickly moving his hand away when he felt the sweat from his run. Gross, you hugged me and now I'm all sweaty"

Julia Chang laughed and wiped her hands down the front of her robe, disgusted as well. "Go take a show, stinky."

He shrugged and started up the stairs.

"Wait, who where you talking to last night?"

"Oh," Michael smiled again, deciding not to look back at her so she couldn't see him blush. "Blaine."

"Oh, Blaine," she said in a crude imitation of him. "Your _boyfriend_." He turned to see that her eyebrows were raised and that he lips were turned up in a familiar teasing smile.

His mother was the second to find out that he was dating Blaine. He usually confided with her about almost everything. She was easily his best friend, excluding Sam. He did not, however, tell his dad. It wasn't because his dad disapproved of him dating another guy; it was because his dad didn't approve of Mike dating _anyone_. It was "too distracting" and "he should focus on his education and worry about relationships when he's done with college. Priorities!"

"When do I get to meet him?"

"You have met him, mom."

"When do I get to meet him as _your boyfriend_?" Her smile grew into a grin.

Mike couldn't help but blush even more. He cast her one pointedly exasperated glare before running the rest of the way up the stairs, ignoring her calls after him.

After a longer than normal shower, Mike called Blaine and wasn't surprised when he got a groggy response, "Michael, its six thirty, is everything okay?"

A grin cracked on Michael's lips as he heard the high sleepy texture of Blaine's voice. It stirred something simple in him to hear such a thing. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined what it would feel like to hear the raw feeling of Blaine's voice in the morning close to him, waking him up.

"I like your voice in the morning," he finally said.

He heard a small, exasperated laugh escape Blaine's throat and his grin relaxed into a small smile. After a beat of comfortable silence Blaine spoke. "How are you this morning? Did you just go for a run?"

"I'm getting by and yeah but it wasn't very easy. I wanted to-uhm-thank you for last night. I don't think I would have survived without you," Michael finished with rushed sincerity.

"Just don't do it again. I've never been so scared in my life, my dad that he was going to need to call an ambulance," Blaine hissed a little, clearly regretting what he just said.

Mike felt his face heat up until he was sure it would start steaming if he put water on it. Before he could comment on Blaine's father's involvement, Blaine was speaking again.

"He was in the room when you called." He said it more like it was a question and Mike was about to point it out but was cut off again, "Okay, he wasn't. I panicked. I ran to the first person I could find and he was just down the hall and-"

"I get it, Blaine." Michael said with a small smile. Though Blaine and his father weren't particularly close, anyone in that situation would need someone they loved to hold their hand. Michael knows that if he was in Blaine's situation he would run to his mom or dad in a heartbeat, just to have someone to keep him grounded so he could do his best to help someone else he cared for. "I just wish it wasn't your dad. I don't want him to have a bad impression of me."

"He likes you, don't worry."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, I talk about you a lot. Also, you're Asian and he likes that."

"And it doesn't bother him that we're dating?"

"Yeah, uhm," Blaine laughed awkwardly, "he was pretty surprised by that. He doesn't think that a guy like you can be attracted to guys. But then I told him that you were a dancer and he was less surprised." This got both of them laughing so much that Mike fell back onto his bed and held his stomach. Eventually the laughing ended with a violent yawn from Blaine's end of the line. "We have one more day."

"I kind of want to steal the TARDIS and just jump forward to tomorrow, but I would probably end up being sent one year ahead and then where would we be?"

"Ah, _Doctor Who_ reference! See, I can tell when there are _Doctor Who_ references now."

"-I'm slowly converting you-"

"-and if you disappeared for a year, I would probably end up looking for you the entire time. I would probably drop out of school and it would be your fault. You would owe me big time when you returned. I would sue you for emotional damage or something like that."

Michael tilted his head back and laughed before relaxing himself into a content smile. "I'll avoid time traveling then, for you."

"Well, we could go together and that would be okay."

"Noted. If I come across a time travel device alone I will avoid it, if we come across a time travel device we'll go and see the future or past together or different planets if it's a TARDIS."

They strongly avoided the topic of the night before and kept on lighter, happier subjects as they both got ready for their day. (Mike kept his teasing about Blaine's overuse of hair gel to a minimum.)

Mike didn't need to express his gratitude for Blaine vocally, their soft exchanges and the sound of Blaine's smile as his voice cracked with the bad phone reception was enough to tell Michael that his boyfriend understood. But near the end of their conversation they touched on the sensitive again, it was really the shuddering and wary sigh that escaped Mike's throat that gave it all up.

"Don't-"Blaine started and then stopped before letting out an equally effected gasp. "-don't overwork yourself. I-uhm-this may sound weird, but even the thought of seeing you beaten and defeated makes me sick. I might have a really sensitive stomach though. I'll have to get that checked." He laughed anxiously as he tried to cover up the concern that lied thickly on top of every syllable.

"I'll be okay," he sighed, relieved that he didn't need to lie to Blaine.

"I know you will."

Every part of Michael's body felt sore as he went through his schedule. He mildly pondered the idea that his aching limbs and the pinching, anxious pain at the top of his chest were symptoms of becoming a zombie. He wonders if his father will hesitate to kill him if he starts the zombie apocalypse. Then he wonders if Blaine would kill him.

**-If I turn into a zombie you have my permission to kill me on the spot- **Mike sent to Blaine after a rigorous chemistry exam.

**-I'll probably just trap you and go find the cure.-**

**-What if killing me was the only cure.-**

**-That's a hard decision.-**

**-How so?-**

**-Losing you or losing the entire world to the zombie apocalypse, I couldn't possibly make that kind of decision.-**

"You two need to stop being so cheesy," Tina said as she sat next to him at their regular lunch table.

"What?" He said, grinning. His stomach was churning pleasantly, fighting with the aches from the night before and spreading a peaceful warmth through him.

"You and Blaine," she smirked. "I've only seen you grin like that a few times since I met you. I'm worried you might break your face."

Still smiling, Mike closed his mouth and sucked his lips in between his teeth as a blush colored his cheeks. "Grin like what?"

"The way you sometimes do when you dance," she said nonchalantly as she started to unwrap her burrito. She didn't see Mike's smile falter a bit at the mention of his dancing, the ache returned slightly. But before he could respond, Kurt and Mercedes sat down at their table, followed by Puck and Sam. Sam met Mike's gaze momentarily before looking away hurriedly and attempting to strike a conversation Puck. Mike's ache grew stronger.

"So, what were you two talking about?" Tina asked with a mischievous grin.

To Mike's dismay, everyone else looked up at the sound of Tina's teasing tone. Kurt mirrored Tina's smile as he waited for Mike's answer. He stabbed at his tater tots with his fork, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the heat of everyone's gaze warmed his face. The only people that knew he was dating Blaine were Tina, Kurt, and Sam. And Mike didn't really feel up to expressing his gleefulness in front of the latter, let alone get the awkward looks from those who just knew Blaine as Kurt's ex-boyfriend.

"Uh…what he would do if I was a zombie."

"And?"

"Lock me up and find a cure?" He heard Sam scoff and prepared himself on a well thought out lecture zombies and their weaknesses. When Sam didn't say anything Mike felt his stomach twist in discomfort again. He missed talking with Sam about things like zombies or superheroes, or zombie-killing superheroes. Disgruntled by Sam's lack of response, Mike decided to focus on Tina, who seemed to be contemplating Blaine's decision.

"Very sensible." Mike ignored another scoff from Sam. "I was expecting him to say that he would kill you and then kill himself all dramatically."

Kurt snorted and nodded his head in agreement.

"Well," Mike sat back in his chair and gave them both a seedy glare. "I guess he isn't as stupid as you guys thought."

"Oh, he's not stupid. He's just painfully oblivious," Kurt said with a casual, non-committed air.

"_Adorably_ oblivious," Mike said with a defensive tone and a happy grin.

"Frustratingly oblivious," Kurt rolled his eyes. "You both are."

"Agreed," Tina held up her finger as if she were seconding a motion.

"Okay, who the hell are we talking about?" Puck demanded before Mike could defend himself.

"Blaine," Kurt and Tina said in unison.

Heat invaded Michael's neck and chest as the rest of the table, excluding Sam, stared at him.

"You stole Kurt's boyfriend?" Puck said, clearly shocked and stuck between disgust and amusement.

"This is why I haven't told anyone," Mike said, putting his hands up defensively. "It's not like that, I mean, Blaine and I are dating but Kurt and Blaine didn't break up because of me." He didn't think the tension could get any thicker but then Sam decided to uncomfortably clear his throat and stare at his food with a furrowed brow, like it had insulted his hair style.

It wasn't fully Sam's reaction that made Michael uneasy, it was the way Kurt's calculating gaze traveled from Sam to Mike and back again, his mouth slightly open in surprise before he pulled a straightly stoic face to look over at Puck, who was talking again.

"So did Kurt's ex steal Mike from you?" He said, nodding his head at Tina.

Tina smiled warmly and glanced at Mike, her smile growing. "I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I knew that there was someone else no matter what he said."

Mike spluttered and dropped the chip that was halfway to his mouth. "That's not it! I mean-I hardly knew him when we broke up."

Sam made another scoffing noise that he covered up with a short cough.

"Okay, I met him when I was eleven," Mike corrected himself. "But Blaine didn't-I mean it wasn't- it wasn't…intentional," he muttered, defeated. "It's not like I thought that anything was going to happen between us when Tina broke up with me."

Long after the subject of Blaine and Mike had deflated, their table was joined by Artie and Quinn and their group discussed far more interesting subjects, to them, than Michael's love life.

He hoped that it would be the end of it entirely but his wishful thinking didn't stop Puck from announcing it in glee club. Mike wasn't exactly enthused about all the attention but that giddy realization that he actually _was_ dating Blaine Anderson kept it bearable.

"Dude, you're gay?" Finn whispered loudly.

"No," Michael said with raised eyebrows. "You know I was dating Tina for almost a year right?" Finn still looked confused. "I'm bi."

"Me too," Brittany said with a bright smile. "We should start the bi rights movement," she said with seriousness. Mike bit down on his lip, suppressing a smile, and nodded. She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up and turned back around in her seat.

The rest of the school day consisted of rude questions, a slushy in the face (it wasn't even cherry!) and Sam's consistent avoidance. The last of those three was the only thing that kept could dampen his smile. Unfortunately, the musical rehearsal that day wasn't any better. Mike could only admit to himself that Kurt really didn't seem right for the part of Tony, it was the tone of his voice and the smoothness of everything he did. Tony wasn't a barbarically masculine character but he wasn't baby smooth like Kurt either. But Artie seemed to be excited about the unorthodox casting and kept a blind eye to the way Kurt winced whenever he moved to kiss Tina. Mike hoped that Kurt would pull through before their first performance.

Altogether, the day only had one thing really going for it was that its completion left only one more day until he could see Blaine again, and that was definitely something to smile about.

* * *

><p>Maybe Sam could finally hang up the thought of Mike being romantically attached to him for good. There was something painful but pleasing about the unattainable and Sam was getting the painful a little too much for his liking. Seeing Mike with his goofy and satisfied grin half the time while the other half consisted of grimaces, aged and tired expressions, made it even more painful. It was painful to know that Sam didn't cause such moments of euphoria and even more painful to imagine that he caused that dead sad look in Mike's eyes whenever he sat on the edge of the stage after practice and looked out empty audience seats.<p>

Sam wished that he could ask Mike what was wrong as a confirmation that he wasn't causing Mike's stress, though a bitter and jealous part of him hope that it was his actions that caused it.

But Sam had other things he needed to worry about. He had Sebastian trying to set up another date with him; Kurt, someone he always thought as a good friend, was glaring at him constantly without explanation; he only had Puck to hang out with, Puck was awesome but his baby drama was irritating. He was just lucky things were looking up for his family with a small home and his mother working as a waitress at Breadstix so he could focus on his homework instead of delivering pizzas. They even had enough money to pay for a baby sitter while Sam went to school.

He was sitting on the small part of grass in front of their home, attempting to focus on his history text book, his dyslexia and his siblings running around caused it to be a difficult task, when a familiar and unwanted voice took him by surprise.

He looked up from his text book and gazed apprehensively at his visitor. Sebastian was standing in front of him, a bright grin on his face and his hands stuffed into a hoodie with the words "Harvard Law" sewn into the front of it. Of course Sebastian would wear something as snobbish and ostentatious as proof of his connection with prestigious schools.

"Hi Sam," Sebastian said in a tone that Sam didn't recognize from him. Sam peered at him skeptically. He couldn't deny that Sebastian was attractive, especially with the sun highlighting the finer parts of his jaw line. But Sam knew too much about him to really be swayed by his good looks, though the excitement of being adamantly pursued certainly enlarged the appeal of it all. With Sebastian he got the sort of attention that he always wanted from a prospective love interest.

"Hey?" He couldn't help but let the upturn of his greeting betray his apprehension of seeing Sebastian so unannounced.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," Sebastian explained as he stepped closer. "I think I was a little too aggressive."

Sam hummed in agreement but didn't know how to put his thought process to words. Aggressiveness was just a part of Sebastian's personality; Sam didn't think he necessarily needed to apologize for that. "That's just the way you are, man." He was so unlike Mike, who was soft-spoken around strangers and always considerate of others. But Sebastian and Mike did have both have that sort of surprised flare that snapped out from time to time, though it usually caused Mike to be sarcastic and Sebastian to be thoughtfully silent.

Sebastian seemed to be reading his thoughts. "That's it, Sam. I'm not like Mike," he chuckled awkwardly. "The way Blaine goes on about him like he is some kind of god send. And angelic just isn't my thing," Sam watched as Sebastian's mouth formed a gorgeous little slanted smile. Sam has never seen him express himself so realistically. It definitely sparked enough interest for Sam to muster up a smile in return. "So, can we start over?"

Sam licked his lips in thought before muttering a bashful yes, looking back down at his text book, attempting to concentrate again. He didn't look back up when he heard Sebastian sit next to him.

"I think you just read that sentence five times," Sebastian said quietly. Sam chuckled and looked over at him, his smile timid.

"I have dyslexia," he looked back at his text book, aware of Sebastian's calculating stare but choosing not to acknowledge it. "So it's really hard,"

"That's…what he said?"

Sam's head jerked up in surprise, he looked over at Sebastian his mouth wide in awe. It was the first time he has ever saw Sebastian blush or look even remotely timid. He let out a short, expressive laugh, earning a relieved smile from Sebastian, before he looked back down at his book.

They sat together as the sun started to fall behind the west horizon, the sky growing orange and red, covering the two of them in their pleasant silence. After a half an hour Sam grudgingly asked Sebastian to read the last passage to him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes as Sebastian's voice carried on through the other-wise silent neighborhood. It was peaceful, listening to Sebastian's smooth and confident voice make boring facts about The Emancipation Proclamation interesting and calming. It was so listless and soft that Sam didn't even care to hide his grin when Sebastian slyly slipped his hand over Sam's as he read on. It was probably the most unromantic subject to read about, Sam admitted to himself, but he couldn't care less. Even if things didn't work out between them, he knew he would remember what it felt like to be wanted by someone he could see himself being with. Even if it was a mistake and Sebastian had a more lecherous motive, it would still be an interesting relationship. Sam wasn't emotionally attached enough to be truly hurt if Sebastian did have other plans but he wasn't so unattached that the idea of Sebastian was displeasing. He was warmed with the prospect of something new seeping through his body like the heat from the setting sun.

* * *

><p>Blaine awoke on the first day of his freedom with a grin on his face. He stretched his arms out from under his blankets and tumbled out of his bed as he reached for his phone, yanking it enthusiastically from its charger. He had seven texts from Michael all of them containing smiley faces and exclamation points.<p>

His whole body was warm and jumpy as he got ready for his days, so much that he tripped a few times on the way to his closet, happy that no one was around to see him make an utter fool of himself. When he managed to get himself together he had to look at himself in the mirror over and over to assure himself that he looked good enough to see Michael again. His stomach burned with nerves and a jittery anxious feeling as he ran a hand over his hair, bumping some of the loose curls.

He bounded down the steps while straitening his bowtie. His parents were in the den reading their preferred sections of the newspaper.

"Hey mom, hey dad," he said happily as he gave his mom a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be gone all day."

"Don't take advantage of your new freedom, Blaine," his said without looking up from the sports section.

"Okay, not all day," Blaine replied, sending a wink to his mother. She replied with a smile and a return wink. "But for most of it."

"Doors are locked at-"

"-nine, I know dad."

"Have fun today, Blaine," his mother said as he waved goodbye to them and darted down the vast hallway to the front door.

"I will, mom."

They planned to meet at the park so they could avoid dealing with the stress of meeting each other's parents, especially with the awkwardness of Blaine's father and the blatant despondency of Michael's.

He was surprised to see that the park was so full on a chilly autumn morning and couldn't help but feel a little nettled at the lack of privacy for the two of them, but then he spotted Michael sitting at a table with his hands nervously playing with his phone. Blaine walked slowly towards him, trying to take the advantage of the chance to look at Michael without Michael looking back, or blushing and looking away. Blaine felt an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach as he noticed the tired and empty look in Michael's eyes and the clear tension in his shoulders, but the feeling evaporated into warm and comfortable peace when Michael looked up and saw him, shoulders relaxing and eyes lighting up with excitement. Blaine chuckled as Mike scrambled up from his seat and made his way around the table.

"Oh god, a sight for sore eyes," he exclaimed as he grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him in close for a brief but wonderful kiss. Blaine's lips buzzed while his heart pounded and a pleased smile spread across his lips. Mike pulled away and looked from Blaine's eyes to his mouth, back and forth like he didn't know which he wanted to look at more. "I didn't think I could understand that idiom any more than I already did but-" he pressed another kiss onto Blaine's lips before grinning.

"It's good to see you, too," Blaine replied, out of breath from pure excitement. He grabbed onto the lapels of Michael's jacket and pulled him into a stronger kiss while Michael's hands found the curve of his jaw to tilt his face into an easier position. The feel from Michael's fingers on his skin was an electric jump-start and Blaine was about to slip his tongue over Michael's bottom lip when a very loud sound interrupted them. It was a woman, clearing her throat and glaring at them as they pulled away from each other. She was making her kid face the other way while giving the two of them a look of disgust. There was silence for a moment before Michael burst into laughter and buried his head into the curve of Blaine's neck and hugged him lazily. The warmth of Michael's body was so exhilarating Blaine wasn't bothered by her scowl.

"Let's get out of here," Blaine said with a laugh as he pulled a still chuckling Mike toward the parking lot. He laughed even harder as Michael stumbled behind him. Mike couldn't start his car before Blaine was kissing him again It was a little awkwardly positioned but the feeling of Michael's lips on his was so invigorating and hot he didn't care that his elbow was oddly scrunched up against the back of his seat.

When they finally pulled apart, Blaine's cheeks were red and his breathing was erratic as he beamed over at his boyfriend. "So," his voice cracked involuntarily as he spoke, "what are we going to do today?"

"Well, I was thinking breakfast," Blaine watched as Mike tilted his head up to get a better look at the morning sky. "We could go to Denny's or something."

Blaine didn't realize that he was hungry until food was mentioned; his stomach was so full of nerves and excitement that he didn't have time to worry about morning nutrition. But when they were in their own booth with the shades drawn up and the sun beaming through the clean restaurant windows, Blaine once again forgot about his hunger. Instead he focused on how perfectly the light hit Michael's face as he glanced over the menu and the slight tickle of Michael's thumb as it rubbed the side of Blaine's hand. Their hands were clasped together in the small space they put between them on the cushioned booth seat.

"What?"Michael asked quietly as a tinge of pink lit up his cheeks. He was still determinedly looking at the menu but Blaine could see that he wasn't focusing on the words.

"What?"Blaine mimicked.

Mike finally looked up at him with a frown that was obviously hiding a smile. "Stop staring at me," he nudged Blaine playfully with his shoulder and let out a small laugh. A sudden burst of happiness swelled inside of him as he realized that Mike was still that shy, small boy he met when they were younger, that same boy he thought about for years as some kind of heroic fairy tale character. Of course, Michael probably couldn't fly or assist Blaine in slaying dragons, but the way he made Blaine feel like he didn't have to impress or change himself into the perfect boyfriend to be right for Michael. He hoped that Michael felt that same peace and comfort with him. The small smile on Mike's face as he looked back down at his menu told Blaine that he didn't need to worry about it, that Mike was happy with him. That's what he wanted the most; he wanted Mike to always be happy. If it was _him_ that was making Mike happy, well, that was just an added bonus.

**Author's Note: Sorry! Sorry! I didn't forget or give up or anything. I have been so ridiculously busy with school and work. Now the Fall semester is over I'll only have work to worry about for the next couple of weeks and I'll hopefully have the next and final chapter posted in a few weeks. **


	23. Unfinished last chapter

**Okay, so here's the story. I've been really busy with school and work. Not only that, I've been super bugged by this story and I'm just itching to re-do the whole thing. Of course I don't plan on completely re-writing it and of course I wanted to finish it before I started another draft but I'm too distracted by wanting to fix it to really get any writing done. So here's what I'm going to do. I'll give you guys what I have written for the last chapter, keep the whole story up, and spend a lot of time on editing, re-writing, and adding some stuff in, so I can post the final draft on Ao3. Sound good? I'm sorry for those that have been waiting forever only to be disappointed. I promise the final draft is going to be much better—at least I hope it will be—and I'll definitely add some smut to the last of it, since Ao3 actually allows that. Anyway, my Ao3 is going to be under the same bikechanderson username so look me up if you don't hate me.**

* * *

><p>They decided to hang out at Mike's house after they finished eating because there was nowhere else they could go where they would feel completely alone together. They ended up reading through all the pamphlets that Mike had been collecting since he started high school, mainly because Blaine asked what Mike was planning on doing after he graduated, admittedly, for selfish reasons.<p>

Blaine was resting his head on Michael's stomach while he read through a thin, smooth pamphlet. He felt almost like he is being rocked to sleep by the way Mike's stomach rose and fell with his steady breathing. "This place seems nice." Blaine said apathetically as he waved the pamphlet in Mike's face and gazed up at him. "If that's what you're looking for."

"I don't know what I am looking for," Mike's brow furrowed as he looked at a different pamphlet. Blaine could see the lines on Mike's forehead deepening. He let out a sigh and tossed it to the side. He wished he didn't bring it up; the idea of Mike going away wasn't the happiest thing to think about and it was obviously stressing Mike out as well. "Then let's worry about it later."

Mike flinched a little before smiling. "I can't help but picture how my dad would look if you said that to him." He brushed a hand over Blaine's hair as his smile warmed. His fingers wiggled underneath the gelled curls, causing Blaine to huff in annoyance. Mike chuckled and continued to run his fingers over Blaine's scalp.

"Okay, that feels good, but I still can't decide if it's worth the price."

"Shhh shh it's worth it." Blaine couldn't see Michael's face, but from the tone of his voice he could tell that Mike was holding back a laugh.

The comforting feeling of Mike's fingers roaming through his tightly-gelled hair was peeling away at all of Blaine's discomforts, as each curl loosened he relaxed a little more to Michael's calm breathing. The next thing he knew he was waking up after an undetermined amount of time asleep. He felt Mike's hand resting on his shoulder and heard light snoring. With a small chuckle, Blaine grabbed Mike's hand and pulled it toward his mouth to give it a small kiss. Mike's snoring stopped abruptly and his hand flinched. "What time is it?" Mike says in the most adorably groggy tone.

Blaine pulled out his phone and let out a sigh of relief. "It's almost seven." He sat up and smiled over at Mike.

"I feel like we have been sleeping for longer than thirty min-," Mike interrupted himself with a loud laugh that he quickly covered up with his hand smacking over it.

"What?" Blaine's hands instantly jumped up to his hair to feel a large bushy mess. He glared at Mike before jumping over to Mike's bed to find a decent pillow to cover his head. "You're terrible."

"I'm sorry," Mike said with an unrepressed laugh.

"No you're not. You're terrible and I'm breaking up with you for five seconds over this. One-"

"-Oh come on-"

"-Two-"

"-I'll fix it-"

"-Three-"

"-Blaine-"

"-Four-"

"-Five! And we're done. Will you go out with me?"

"Maybe."

"You said-"

"I'm interested in someone else," Blaine's voice was still covered by the pillow as he stood up and attempted to make his way to Mike's bathroom. He ended up stumbling a little but stubbornly moved the pillow to the top of his head so he could see his way, pushing a grinning Mike out of his line of sight.

"Is that someone else going to help you with your hair?"

"Yes, I am interested in my reflection in the mirror."

"I would be jealous, but I can see why you left me for him. He's really hot…with his pillow hat," Mike followed him into the bathroom, still grinning mischievously. Blaine watched him apprehensively as he moved to one of the cabinets and pulled out a barely used bottle of hair gel.

"No," Blaine pulled the bottle away from him. "The last time you touched my hair I fell asleep and woke up to my worst hair nightmare."

Mike scoffed and crossed his arms, a small smile still resting on his lips as he watched Blaine fervently reapply his hair-gel. Blaine didn't put as much on as he was used to for two reasons. One, he was very conscious of being watched. Two, he didn't want Mike to think he had to refrain to touching. He glanced at the reflection of Mike in the mirror and his stomach turned comfortably when their eyes met. They smiled at each other for a moment before Blaine caught himself and turned his calm smile into a teasing glare and turned his gaze back to his reflection in the mirror. He's not surprised when Mike retaliates by wrapping his warm arms around Blaine's torso. Blaine refused to look up when Michael decided to rest his chin on his shoulder, even though his heart was pounding heavily against the tight constraints of his chest as he washed the remaining gel off his hands.

Blaine attempted to turn around. He found that it wasn't that difficult to turn around and Mike seemed keen on Blaine facing him, still trapped between the sink and Mike's body. He willingly let Michael kiss him after a few moments of protest. He made sure Mike kept his hands below his shoulders though Mike occasionally attempted to reach his hair again. In retaliation to these teasing attempts, Blaine pushed Mike against the door to the bathroom. The shock of the movement caused Mike to gasp which provoked Blaine to move his tongue into Mike's mouth.

Things heat up a lot faster after that and all teasing was pushed aside as Blaine grabbed onto the collar of Michael's shirt. It's when Mike let out a low groan against his mouth that Blaine really lost control and thrust his hips against Mike's without forethought. This action earned another groan from Mike and before either of them knows it they're rutting against each other in Mike's bathroom, a playful and soft moment rapidly turned to hard and intense. When he gathered enough sense, Blaine released the collar of Mike's shirt and fumbled for the door knob, still determined to keep his mouth on Michael as he opened the door and they stumbled back into the bedroom. Mike ended up tripping on the leg of his desk chair and they sat on the floor laughing for a good few minutes.

"We should go back to kissing," Blaine said after their laughter died down. Mike nodded fervently and they were about to get back to it when someone shouted Mike's name. They both winced.


	24. Update

Hey.

You all hate me and I know it.

It's been a little over a year and I admit that I am the worst person in existence. Life has kind of been kicking me in the ass and I've had the motivation to do the re-write but I've just been blocked and paranoid so…I've only finished the first two chapters. Thinking about it just disappoints me so much it makes me kind of nauseous. This fic is my baby and I want to give it all the attention I think it deserves.

The first chapter has been posted, I know I said I was going to post it all at once but I figured I might as well show everyone that I didn't just forget about TMaTS. I'm so sorry. So sorry.

It's on Ao3 under the name "bikechanderson" just search for that and I should be listed there. Same title so it won't be hard to spot.


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